Iridescent
by Aeci
Summary: Tony gives Bruce a cure to control his transformations. The price is grave, though. As Bruce struggles to rebuild, Tony acquires a burden that could consume him forever. Bonds are shattered, hopes die, and Bruce must face a haunting question – how much could he sacrifice to be a hero? Because he just might have to take Tony's life in order to save it.
1. Shadow

_iriˈdesənt (adj.) – the quality of showing luminous  
colors that change when seen from different angles._

**I.**  
**Shadow**

* * *

It was midnight, and clearly so.

The moon was pulling itself from a band of clouds that chewed on the surrounding skies. But the sky was fighting back, bleeding in response, casting rain down onto a lonely road and chilling the asphalt. I stood next to this road, where a sidewalk loomed endlessly ahead of me. It seemed to gesture in a luring fashion.

_ Walk this way._

And I followed it, keeping close to the brick wall beside me. It didn't stop the growling winds or keep my suit dry, but the weather had little bearing on me to begin with. I was locked in my head, resigning myself to a simple truth.

_There's nowhere for me to go but forward._

Amidst the spitting rain and the white noise, the heart monitor on my wrist was ticking. It wasn't audible – nor real – but it didn't matter. It was counting down, and I didn't need a sound to know that.

The Other Guy would break free again. It was inevitable. Until then, I had to stay above it and ignore its cries to abandon my human persona. This had become easier with practice. But when it came to my fears of the world around me, things were more complicated. There had been a time when simple noises – a twig snapping, a holler across the cityscape – would cause the twist of a pulse and the roaring of a voice in my head. It would prep me to run – or change – in case there was an ambush.

In case the military was there to take me away.

But things were different now. The occasional noise would never precede another military strike. There was no threat to me, and because of this, I've had to keep telling myself, _no, it can't be them. It can't be Ross. _

Because Ross had killed himself.

The details on his death weren't disclosed, but I knew he took his own life. The Chitauri invasion had made the Other Guy a hero, so if Ross tried to slander such an icon, it would mean negative publicity. And Ross hated this, perhaps more than he hated me.

So now he was dead.

And all because he could no longer rip me apart and take the one thing that gave my life value to him. Men like him are tragic. They can't bring themselves to let go of their cause for power and greed. They hold their ego above all else, and when that ego falls, they have to find an exit.

The funny thing about all this, though? Ross was never a fan of silencers, but they didn't find his body for a couple days. It was obvious he finally decided to use one.

That being said, I first learned of his death on the television at Stark Tower. Ross was a decorated war hero, so it was no surprise to see him on the news. But when the headline appeared, I was more upset than one might expect. My life had been a constant struggle to keep my distance from the General, yes, but I'd been longing to apologize to him. It was about his daughter. About Elizabeth Ross.

Betty.

I would never see her again, because–

"Stop. Don't think about it."

I fixed the lapel of my jacket and kept walking.

When I saw Ross on the news, I knew my apology could no longer come to fruition, so a kink had grown in my stomach. It must have showed in my face, too, because Stark had promptly shut the television off.

_"Did I miss something, Doctor?" he asked me. "Why the heck do you look like you're gonna throw up? This guy made you run around like a headless chicken, killing people as you went. He had to go. But you're home free now, so do yourself a favor and just loosen up a little."_

I didn't tell Stark about my grievances – he probably didn't even know Betty existed. The silence bothered him, but he didn't press, and he let me stay at the Tower until I was ready to leave. It was good while it lasted. Being a wanderer, though, I didn't stay long.

Come tonight, it had been a day since I left.

As I walked down the sidewalk in the rain, I remembered my departure. I thought Stark would simply wish me luck and say goodbye, but instead, he became downcast. Fearful. I couldn't explain why this happened. All he did was shrug and say, "Banner, c'mon, stick around. Do something different for a change. Who knows, you might find a miracle cure or something."

It was so unlike him.

But I couldn't stay, and I couldn't believe his outlook. What he suggested wasn't possible. I had looked for a cure for ages, and anyone I could develop a relationship with had either died, or wasn't as frightened of me as they should've been. Iron Man had his own defenses against my condition, but he too was only human.

I couldn't bear such liabilities.

If something happened to the people I knew, it would force the blame directly on me, whether they said it was my fault or not. I'd just keep thinking to them, _of course I didn't mean to hurt you, but it doesn't change the fact that I did. I'm going to leave as soon as you turn your head; don't you understand this?_

After all… No matter how much somebody begs for you to cheer up, to be happier, sometimes you just can't rationalize what you feel.

But the look on Stark's face as I turned away from him really hit home. His eyes spoke of regret, sadness, like he thought I was abandoning him… As if my mere presence was enough to save him from his antics and reckless personality.

It wasn't just about himself, though. He seemed as if he really wanted to help me.

As if he believed he _owed _me help.

But Tony didn't owe me anything except a goodbye. I told him this. He rebuffed by telling me I saved his life, and that he needed to repay me. I refused to believe him, but he pinned my denial on amnesia and kept insisting that it really happened. But even if I did somehow 'save' him, it would've been a fluke. It wasn't me thinking in my other form, _save him; he's falling to his death_.

I stuck with this memory as my mind lapsed in an odd – but familiar – way.

_Wait, how would I know that he fell? Stark didn't mention that._

_…No. _It was just my mind trying to render the memories that came from the Other Guy.

The fact that I returned to fight the invasion was still odd to me. I only went back because the Avengers were walking into a suicide mission. There was no way they'd have won without my help. I had no choice but to put on a façade and give into another transformation.

There was something different about it that time. I could admit that much. But ultimately, I disappeared like a fleeting thought. After the battle, Stark showered me with praise like the Other Guy could never do anything wrong again. He was acting like I finally chose to accept my duality and become a hero.

The truth was different.

My life was saturated with guilt and grief. I longed to kill myself. And if I could do it tonight, in the rain, where the poor visibility could mask the nature of my death… If I could just take a bullet to the head and not emerge with it cradled in my hand… I would do it.

_That_ was the cruel truth.

But death had escaped me once before, so there was no hope there. I had given up on a cure and given up on dying. Now, I could only depend on myself to stay strong. Stark was a good man, but he would never understand how it felt to walk in my shoes – he wasn't a monster, and he never would be.

_I'm alone._

The dim, pale clouds turned into a mass of rain that echoed a memory within my head. It contained tempests of fire and metal and gunshots made from blue simmering light. The onslaught was devised from an alien race I could vaguely remember.

_Maybe – someday – I'll find a cure. But for now, I just have to keep moving._

It continued to grow colder. The clouds spewed water that soaked my skin. And then, just as a spark of lightning split the sky, I looked at the brick wall on my right. On it, there was a shadow that seemed five sizes too big for the physical shape it streamed from. It frightened me.

_No… You can't get your hopes up like this again!_

My head constricted, frozen from the rain and rising turmoil. It was inside of me – a shadow, all of my darkest fears incarnate – and it would never go away.

_ You can't win!_

I ripped the monitor from my wrist and tossed it over the brick wall.

« • »

"Dummy, soldering iron."

The mechanical shape twisted to face me. Its metal joints had been replaced countless times before, but they still made a faint squealing noise. And when Dummy drew closer, I sighed. It was grasping the wrong tool. Again.

Not like that was a big shocker.

I leaned back in my chair, finally pissed off at the pile of scrap metal. Then I pulled the tool from Dummy's grip and waved it in front of its face – or, what passed for a face where robotics were concerned. "This is a _screwdriver_, you tragedy. You're like the lovechild of Clouseau and a tree lamp."

It faced the floor, dejected.

Before I could wave Dummy off, a British voice sounded from the computer beside me. "Sir, the process is complete."

Consequently, I noticed the din of empty air that was warbling around in my stomach. I looked at my martini glass. It was tired from numerous swigs of liquor, but after the third drink it had gone ignored. "Oh, so the nachos are finally ready?"

"Yes, sir, they are. I suggest learning to prepare your own dishes for the next time Potts is away. I also wish to inform you that the compound has finished synthesizing."

I pursed my brow. "_And_…? Good god, Jarvis. I told you to _test_ it, too."

"I have indeed, sir."

"Result?"

"You should pour yourself a glass of _Dom Perignon_."

A grin produced on my face. "I was worried there for a sec. That's gotta be a new record for the slowest analysis you've ever done."

"My nonexistent hands bleed for you, sir."

"You sassy computer. Tell you what – boot up the Mark VII and get ready for a field trip. School's out."

* * *

**Introduction**

___This is a dark, gritty fanfiction about the Science Bros! Tony gives Bruce Banner a cure to control his transformations, but all hell breaks loose. There's an emphasis on Bruce and Tony's identity and sense of control. Other characters include Romanoff and Pepper Potts, and there will be cameos like Selvig, Rick Jones, and Loki. Finally, the Mark 42 armor and other stuff from IM3 will appear. This story will be long, and will probably push 50 chapters or more. I'll ________update every Wednesday. Enjoy the ride!_

_**Rating:**__ T for coarse language and mature themes. __There are __references to suicide_ in a couple chapters, and one reference to self-injury. They will be labeled with warnings.

_**Please leave a review! =)**_


	2. The Martyr

**II.  
The Martyr**

* * *

It took a moment to regain my composure.

After wiping the rain from my eyes, I dashed to the nearest strip of buildings and sheltered under an awning. Then I took out the wad of cash from my pocket and counted it.

_Six-hundred and fifty._

The money reminded me of a certain truth – provisions I once took for granted had since become privileges. Now, things like money were something only a friend could provide in a rare act of compassion. This cash was an example. Stark had offered the bundle to me before I left his residence. At first, I was indisposed to accept it, because he wasn't required to help me in any way.

But my reluctance hadn't phased him. He forced the money upon me.

Others would say that his offer was just a prosthetic attempt to look mighty and capable, but I knew it was genuine. And as I stood outside with the rain coming down and my stomach knotting in hunger, I was glad he provided me with funds. It had been a long time since I didn't have to beg for food or worry about being too poor to replace a ruined outfit.

_ Actually, now would be a good time to eat something._

I was starved. And my throat was stripped like paint. Shaking off excess raindrops, I continued along the buildings. The awnings above me granted solace from the weather conditions. The occasional car would drive past me, so I stayed back from the road to avoid getting splashed. I eventually walked into a diner that was located by a quiet intersection.

I entered this particular building for a reason – unlike the capricious road of life that lurked in front of me, this diner was familiar. I'd been here before, in better days, for lunch breaks and breakfast outings.

After all, it was a beautiful little place.

It was an old-fashioned diner with booths that were coated in a candyapple red – and the material was peeling off in small patches from wear. There were stools at the counter where you could sit down, order, and walk away without saying anything except what you wanted to eat. I almost claimed a darker-lit table in the corner, but it was nearly one in the morning so I felt plucky. I neglected solitude in favor of a counter seat.

There was no service at first. In the meantime, I claimed an abandoned menu and made my selection, then I was content to stare at the line of alcohol behind the counter. It reminded me of a bar, but I hadn't entered one in almost eight years.

Too dangerous.

I wasn't even sure how alcohol would affect my body… If it would trigger a change.

The server finally came around from behind the kitchen door. He was a younger man with a roughed-up appearance and stockier build, softened only by his uniform. He held a towel and rubbed it along his arms as if he just washed his hands. "Sorry for the wait. What can I get for you?"

His tone bordered on rude, and I watched him suppress a sigh as I handed over the menu. I could tell he wasn't having a good night. "A life, if you have one of those," I joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

His eyes were oddly searching as he cocked a brow.

My charisma – or, perhaps idiocy – sometimes helped, but it clearly just made things worse here. "I'm sorry. I'm tired. I'll just have a Reuben."

"Yeah. Anything else?"

"No, that's everything."

I expected him to walk away, but he just continued to look at me like he was trying to process something. I was confused. "Is everything all right?"

"You look familiar."

I was afraid my wisecracking had offended him, but it appeared not. Even so, I had never seen this man before, so I took issue with his identifications. The Other Guy had been on the news a lot lately, and I didn't know just how connectable we were. "How?"

"Dunno," he said. "I just feel like… I've _seen_ you before."

"Maybe you have."

He snorted and turned around to fiddle with a coffee pot. "If so, I can't figure out where. I must be losing it." And once he faced me again, he proceeded to roll a warm mug of coffee across the counter and walk away.

"I didn't ask for–," I started, but he was gone.

At a loss, I brought my hands around the mug. I took a sip, removing the chilling effects of the rainstorm I had walked in from. Then I contemplated my next move. Tony had said the Port Authority was the best way to leave Manhattan, so I knew that part, but I still didn't know what my final destination would be.

It didn't take long before the food arrived.

I had kept my hunger at bay until now, but it suddenly got the better of me and I wasted no time in devouring the sandwich I ordered. The server hesitated to leave me there by myself – I figured the place had been pretty dead for the past few hours – so he pulled up a stool of his own. "You're out early," he mentioned.

I glanced up at him. "Rough last couple of days."

"Oh, I know."

"Yeah?"

He nodded and looked away. "Half my friends are in the hospital. They all got caught under some kind of wreckage, or whatever else."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no. They're going to be fine. But it's just… Everything that's been happening lately, you know? It boggles my mind. Aliens from outer space? Aliens fighting on our behalf?"

"Aliens… On our behalf?"

"Yeah. The lightning dude, with his hammer thing, and the green guy. The Hulk, I think they call him."

_So, I'm an alien now? Flattering._

As the man continued to look at me, his demeanor shifted into some kind of vagrant speculation. "Wait, I know why you look so familiar now. You kinda look like the Hulk."

I broke into a cold sweat as something inside of me coiled up. It told me to leave, to protect my sense of safety, or maybe to change and kill him. I couldn't tell which, but it was always like that when I grew nervous. And I wouldn't let it win. I crafted a smile. "I get that a lot."

"I'll bet. You seem like you'd have a lot of close pals. Let me guess – you work with space shuttles and stuff."

"Nuclear physics and biochemistry, actually."

He leaned back into the counter and scratched his chin. "That's a mouthful! Congrats, man. You must be really successful at what you do."

_Successful? That's a joke. You have no idea._

"Anyways, I wish I could say the same for myself. I've been running this place for a while; I've wanted to ever since I was younger. I'm doing well, but people always have the whole 'go off and do something more worthwhile' deal going on."

_Oh, so you're the owner. _"That's too bad."

"Got any tips? My family wants me to give it up, and they have nothing but bad things to say, but this place means a lot to me."

My blood was running on the warmer side, but I didn't feel comfortable enough to remove my jacket. I simply shrugged my shoulders. "If it's what you feel is right, then it's the best thing to do." I bit my lower lip. _Even if it alienates you from everyone else._

"I suppose you're right," he said. "It wouldn't cause too much trouble if I just asked them to shut up."

"Probably not."

We broke eye contact. I took the last bite of the sandwich, relishing it entirely, then the owner looked past me and out the window. I echoed his action. Through the glass and obscurity of night, I saw that the storm was fading.

"No more heavy rain," he mentioned. "Want anything else to eat? Dessert, or more coffee? A guy's gotta have his coffee, right?"

"It's just past one-thirty," I replied humorously. "I'm pretty sure coffee isn't in the cards right now."

After receiving a nod of acknowledgement, I began to stand up. The owner did the same and extended an open hand. "Thanks for stopping by. And don't worry about the cost; I'll pay. It's the least I can do."

I guessed my advice had paid off – literally. "Thank you."

"Don't sweat it; it's just a sandwich."

_ No._

_ It's not just a sandwich._

It was something I never could've afforded without Stark's help. That is, if I had been required to pay. And while this man didn't know about the weight I carried on my shoulders, he knew what it was like to be alone in his resolve.

To be hounded for his beliefs.

My refusal to roll over meant that Ross wouldn't leave me alone, and it continued until the day he died. This owner's family wouldn't leave him alone until he got them to back off. But, one way or another, these problems always came to an end. I just hoped the server didn't have any other lingering troubles that would persist after he got his freedom. Not like me.

Because although I was free from Ross, I still had the Other Guy.

This alone was a reason to keep running.

« • »

I took a deep breath as the Mark VII armor powered its way through the skies.

Take a minute to imagine being strapped to the front of a Ferrari, then imagine the driver flooring the gas. That's what it felt like to fly tonight. But every other part of this flight was just sad. The suit was full of noisy humming that could very well wake the dead – or, at least the people sleeping below.

And my sight was shadowed. God, was it dark. I could see my surroundings thanks to a string of blue projections that hovered in the HUD, and the street lights helped a little, but this wasn't the Mark VIII stealth armor. I'd only used that armor once, but I was already used to improved nocturnal software and a slightly quieter excursion.

Still, I couldn't use that suit without having some kind of panic attack.

As a result, I was stuck with _this_ hangover of a suit, trying to maintain my altitude without going too high up. I couldn't lose connection with the person I was tracing. It didn't take long before I was eager for an update. "Jarvis, do me a favor and stop counting sheep. What's the prognosis so far?"

"Two miles out, sir."

_The hell?_ "Tracker's busted."

"Far from it, sir. It would appear he likes to walk."

"_Walk?_ He's a frigging _sprinter_."

After these words, I corrected the suit to a more westward trajectory. The HUD convulsed with digital particles, giving way to information like pulse and temperature as I changed course. And, of course, a fresh blast of wind and machinery decided it would be fun to surprise my eardrums too.

"Sir, there's one thing I should inform you of."

"Spill."

"The serum will only succeed if it's present at the start of an averse reaction. I customized it to uphold this criteria."

"Jar, you're speaking Binary. I need English."

"The serum contains adrenaline, sir."

So much for a safe approach. All my preconceptions flew out the window. I brought myself upright, hovering in the blackened air and letting out a breath that was suppressed by the sound of propulsions. Wind against metal. "Good grief, Jarvis."

"I'm simply stating the facts."

"No, you're stating that Banner's gotta Hulk out for this thing to work. And not even an orderly Hulk-out, but an angry, 'pissed-at-the-world' Hulk-out. Not that I'm suggesting it or anything, Jarvis, but… You better not be going all Windows Vista on me."

"I can assure you it's entirely safe, sir."

The armor began to move again – I was against the clock, because Banner was only traceable if he didn't lose his suit. "Wait, so you're saying that losing my head means it's safe? Okay then… Let's make a deal, Jarvis. If I die, I'm gonna come back and haunt your ass. And if I don't die… Well, let's just hope it doesn't come to that."

"I'm relieved to hear you've changed your mind."

"Come again?"

"At the Tower, sir. I recall you saying if you couldn't cheer Banner up after Ross' death, you might as well be dead."

I swallowed. It took a lot of strength to keep from cussing out Jarvis – after all, my mind was gushing with unsolved questions and my heart was heating up like molten metal.

_Don't. Relax._

But then the HUD began to beep, and it rescued me.

_Approaching target._


	3. Mea Culpa

**III.****  
****Mea Culpa**

* * *

The city was calm when I stepped outside.

Peaceful.

It must have been the storm that anesthetized everything. Cars failed to appear at all now, and because the torrential clouds were gone, the roads could finally breathe again. They gleamed with a coating akin to black oil. I welcomed these conditions, because they made it easier to regulate my mind.

Despite having eight years of experience with the process, I never found it any easier. It involved staying calm, but there was a catch – I still had to maintain a sense of awareness. I couldn't let my guard down, or a certain voice would bleed into my head and lock me away. It was always there, cloaking my conscience, poised to act.

Sleeping was the only time I could be free of it.

But at least it was manageable right now. I could thank the weather for that. Still, the moment of peace didn't last for long, because as I continued to walk through the city, I began hearing a second voice in my head – and it was one of guilt. Why?

Because I was responsible for Betty's death.

It happened a year ago, but the memory was returning to plague me again. No wonder, really – it was such a foolish mistake. I thought keeping my distance would save her, but ultimately it did the opposite. My good intentions had turned to dust and took away the woman I loved. Now there was only guilt.

_…Oh, Banner. And to think you were just having a good time at the diner._

Overwhelmed, I looked at the buildings around me. They were riddled with bullet holes and violet blood. I knew the Chitauri invasion was to blame. And although I was a good distance from where most of the fighting took place, the struggle had clearly spread even here.

_Cheer up. It would've been much worse if you hadn't returned to fight._

The assurance didn't help. After all, I could never think of the Other Guy with anything but reproach and regret. Saving lives in Calcutta – and the recent fight – were miserable cracks at compensating for the damage he caused.

Because no matter how many wounds I closed up, I still broke a whole lot of stuff.

And I still had demons to deal with.

« • »

_ Just keep walking._

_ Once you get out of here, everything will feel much better._

I trudged down a back lane, passing garbage bins and the rodents that crawled among them. A raccoon sniffed at me and flattened its ears as if it could smell the radiation in my blood. I watched as it backed away, turning its head to the side to avoid confrontation. Then I clasped two buttons on my suit closed – not only in response to the rodent, but to keep the cooling temperatures at bay.

The back lanes became another sidewalk. It was more open and less unpleasant now, and perhaps even more fitting for an emotional recovery. But it didn't matter, because I fell into my mind again, and the memories.

_Bruce… We could just leave together and get away from all this. I'm not afraid._

_ I can't, Betty. Your father would find us, break down the door, and you'd be caught in the middle of it. I couldn't live with myself if you got hurt. I'm sorry._

Guilt pricked at my conscience again, and I suppressed the memory with a newer one. Remarkably enough, it was one of the rare memories that I didn't mind recalling:

_You should come by Stark Tower sometime._

I remembered his invitation with a smile. The request was surprising in itself, but then – being Tony Stark – he took it a step further by zapping me with a rod. It was childish, but the way he studied my face afterwards was admirable. He showed no fear. _And the way he joked about it all…_

The memory made me chuckle.

Yeah, I knew there was a simpler reason for Stark's behavior – maybe he was just ignorant of the risks involved with bullying my heart rate. After all, he'd never seen a forcible transformation before. He didn't understand just how dangerous the Other Guy really was.

_Still, ignorant or not, how many other people would have the courage to zap me like that?_

All my other memories of Stark arose, and they were pulling me out of my stupor. However, I needed to move on. I just had to think about the Port Authority and figure out my final destination.

But I never got around to it.

A sudden whirl of high-pitched caterwauling, escorted by harsh winds, surrounded my ears and ripped the memories away. I was left in shock.

_Dammit! What the hell?_

I tried to get my bearings. The winds had taken me by complete surprise, so I didn't know which direction they came from. My head whipped around to check my back, but I saw nothing except the sidewalk and heard nothing except the faintest whine of a machine. It was menacing to my ears. My heart clouted against my ribs.

I tried to control my pulse.

_Breathe in._

_ Breathe out._

It didn't help. Something behind my eyes shuddered and it caused my vision to darken ominously, happening in beats that pulsed with my heart – it was the first telltale sign. _Banner, don't you dare change now!_

The sound began to increase in volume. I was scared and confused, but I quickly determined that it was coming from down the sidewalk. The noise was accompanied by a circular light that raced towards me, hot in color, magnifying the tumult in my ears. My first guess was a UAV. Searchlight. Military.

…_Oh, no._

Every part of me screamed to run, but there was no point – the light was approaching way too fast. My panic continued to grow. My head began to spin.

And then the light halted, coming to rest in front of me.

It took me a moment to realize that I wasn't in danger. My paranoia had simply gotten the better of me, embarrassing as it was. I struggled to clear the darkness that was pressing on my vision.

_It's just an arc reactor._

Tony Stark hovered for a moment, then he clunked down on the ground. His Mark VII armor was glistening like blood in the moonshine, eerily so, but it still demonstrated his vast intellect and wealth. Being in the presence of such a textbook altruist and his vessel made me feel like a defect – right now, anyways.

_Why are you here?_

The man came forward and the faceplate of his helmet flipped up. He wore a sprightly smile; it certainly didn't imply that he was _trying_ to make me jump out of my skin. All I could do was stare at him in shock. "Stark?"

The engineer laughed. "You look a little tense, Doc. Pull yourself together. Anyways, how on earth did you get this far out already?

"What do you mean? And do you realize just how close I was to losing–"

He rolled his eyes. "Banner, are you going to answer all my questions with more questions? Yes, I know the suit's noisy. Trust me when I say I'm not a huge fan of it either. But it's just the hypergolic propellant for the thrusters."

I placed my hands in my pockets. "Sorry. Were you following me?"

"Yeah, for the last twenty minutes."

I mulled over his comment. It seemed harmless enough at first, but then I found myself perturbed. "How did you know where I was? Did you _bug_ me?"

"I most certainly did not," he retorted. "I bugged your _suit_."

"I'm sorry–"

"Banner, hurl one more apology at me and we're going to have a problem. You've done nothing to warrant two of them in ten seconds."

"Sorry."

…_Crap._

He sighed. "You _really_ gotta stop being so mopey. And quit your loner act. It's going to kill you."

"Stark…" And then I realized why he was following me. "I can't stay. You've heard of the phrase, 'the straw that broke the camel's back'?"

"Point being?"

"Every choice I make could be that one straw."

He looked at me quizzically. "Well, that's a reason to keep running. However… For starters, you _have_ to stick around now, whether you like it or not. Out of all the Avengers, you're the only one who actually respects me. Capsicle, Fury… What a holy bucket of griping. You, on the other hand…"

I tried to sound indifferent. "Yes?"

"We hit it off pretty good, Doc. Didn't we? And it's really not surprising when you think about it."

A smile grew on my face. I knew where Stark was coming from. We had both been forced to accept terrible privileges – his arc reactor, and my condition – in order to keep on living. I remembered when he opened up to me on the Helicarrier by giving a pep talk and saying,_ I know what it's like to be different. To carry a burden._

…In his Stark-esque way of doing so, of course. He always spoke in a sort of encryption, his true words concealed by quips and insults. Regardless, I grew thoughtful as he continued to speak.

"Banner," he said. "Please just answer me this – how _have_ you managed to keep a lid on it all this time? Because I'm pretty sure it's not weed."

"Integration." The word seemed fitting enough. I could never move on from the mistake I made all those years ago, because the gamma radiation was always there – in my blood and bones, watching my pulse – but tempering it was always an option.

Stark pursed his lip. "You really should stick around."

"Give me a reason. Please."

He appeared moved. "Look, Banner – you're a great guy. But this Jekyll and Hyde thing… It's killing you. It's painful to watch. And deny it all you want, but when you had your little tantrum with Loki's scepter…" He shook his head. "I know you want yourself back."

The memory burst forth from my subconscious. Nobody on the Avengers team had seemed to care about my story. They just stepped back in fear upon hearing that I tried – and failed – to kill myself. I did feel there was one person who showed the smallest look of sympathy, but it was lost and muddled among everything else. It could have been Stark, but I didn't think so.

He noticed my expression. "So, I'm here to help."

Well, it wasn't going to be money. Shelter wasn't an option either, and he knew this. The third and final way of helping was so farfetched that I didn't even consider it. "How?"

"Take a wild guess, Einstein."

His proposal finally sank in. "No. It can't be done. I'm the leading expert in gamma radiation, but not even–"

"You never struck me as a quitter, Doc."

I broke eye contact and turned away from him, my expression furrowing. "There's nothing you can do, Stark – I've tried everything. I gave up a long time ago. You have to let me walk away."

Stark took a step closer, prepped to follow me. "No. You see, I can't do that."

"Don't rub it in. This isn't a game."

"Why, did I say it was? And I hate to break it to you, but there _is_ something I can do." He put his armored fist on my shoulder as I faced him again.

"Take your–"

"Shush."

I heard a beep from the gauntlet on my shoulder, which had opened to reveal a hydraulic capsule. It began to spin and brighten my neck with blue. The realization came to me at once. "Stark, what are you doing?" I piped, trying to pull away, but he didn't let go.

He just looked at me with hope, conviction – a fatally mistaken resolve. "Try to have a bit of faith in me, okay?"

The consequences of a forced transformation would be grave. But no matter the danger, I knew I couldn't change Stark's mind. And I knew, from the look on his face, that he was growing tired of the way I kept fighting back.

"Stark, don't do this. _Please_. I'm–"

He finally snapped. "For the love of God, Banner, stop being such a pussy!"

And as the words came, Stark unfurled his palm. With a gust of metallic pressure, a thick needle pierced the side of my neck and sank into my carotid artery. Through the pain swelled a mortal sense of terror, my heartbeat skipping, and I understood what was inside of the serum.

It was adrenaline – and the 'cure' that my body would soon reject.

_ You're out of your mind!_

The needle released with a hiss. Stark backed away as I clutched the wound, trying to contain it, but hot crimson was already running down my neck. I knew it was far too late to find control. And then, to my horror, the injury started to burn and blister.

It was healing.

I buckled under as my chest and spine contracted.

"Stark," I cried frantically. "Go, now, I'm begging you… Don't try to be a hero – just leave me here–!"

He shrugged. "Uh, no. Not part of the plan."

Nothing came out of my mouth – I had lost the rest of my breath. My heart was beating faster, wilder, accelerating to a cruel pulse, and all I could do was clench my teeth and grip my head in pain. Soon enough, the first wave of liquid fire seared through my blood.

It would burn me away until nothing was left. I was powerless to stop it.

My voice began to fracture. "Stark… _Tony!_ _I can't–!_"

In response, he quickly got down on his knees. I felt the cool of red metal drifting through the air as Tony Stark, slowly becoming a stranger, looked into my changing eyes. I looked into his and saw overwhelming fear.

But he simply said, "give it up, Bruce. I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

**_Please R&R! And t_****_hank you so much for following this story!_**


	4. Nerve

**IV.  
****Nerve**

* * *

_ Thanks to the gentle rolling motion of the car, I woke from troubled dreams._

_ It took me a moment to blink away sleep and quell a yawn before turning to the driver. Her brown hair was done up beautifully, gold highlights blazing in the sunset that shone through the windows of the vehicle. We were surrounded by an opus of trees and auburn hills that reflected the sky's warm palette._

_Countryside._

_I pulled myself upright and tried to stretch, flinching from a ragged burn that the seatbelt made on my neck. "How long have I been asleep for?"_

_She kept her eyes on the road. "Not that long. We still have a ways to go."_

_ "Okay."_

_ The quiet drive wouldn't last. In a matter of hours, we'd be slogging through the busiest city in the world – New York. I never thought we'd be going there, because with my biological dilemma, being in such a populated place was dangerous. Stupid._

_ Not that I didn't look forward to it, though. Sterns had promised a cure._

_"Bruce…" the driver began, her soft voice interrupting my reel of expectations. "What's it like? When it happens, what do you experience?"_

_ I wished she hadn't brought it up. Part of me yearned to explain what happened during a change, but the event itself never failed to traumatize me. The memories begged to stay in the darkest part of my mind. But the driver's question wasn't malicious, and after years of being kept unapprised, she deserved to know. "You remember all those experiments we volunteered for at Harvard – those induced hallucinations?"_

_She glanced at me and nodded._

_ "It's a lot like that, but a thousand times stronger. It's like someone's poured a litre of acid into my brain." I didn't voice the most terrifying feeling of them all, though. Becoming something else…_

_It felt like dying._

_ "Do you remember anything?"_

_I shook my head. "No… Just fragments and images. There's so much noise; I can never piece anything together."_

_"Well, then it's still you, inside of it."_

_ Her inference made me scowl. What exactly was she getting at? It wasn't me. It wasn't Banner. Banner didn't injure people, kill them, and make the survivors run away in fear. "No, it's not."_

_ "I don't know about that. In the cave, I really felt like it knew me. Maybe your mind is in there, but it just can't process what's–"_

_ "Stop. It wasn't me, Betty. And I don't want to control it – I want to get rid of it."_

_ Her reaction was something of pity, and it made my blood run cold. I hated it when people looked at me like this – even people like her. I turned away and greeted my reflection in the glass window. She couldn't possibly be saying it was controllable._

_It wasn't._

_And I knew this firsthand. Even after six years, I couldn't stop the transformations or even stay aware through them. It was a lost cause, through and through. However…_

_ Sometimes, I imagined being able to control it. But I couldn't admit this to Betty, because I couldn't even admit it to myself. After all, my hatred for this creature was significant – it had killed people and broke countless lives, so I didn't know if I could take being unified with it. But if control was possible… If it was the only way out of this nightmare…_

_ Yeah._

_ I'd take that over bloodshed any day._

« • »

Someone was yelling in front of me.

"Bruce, don't you _dare_ give up on me now!"

It was Stark. I tried to get a feel for my body and push him away before my mind fell in, but it was pointless. Too much was happening at once. I struggled to to move on my own accord, consumed by a process of raw tearing and reformation – not just of particles and plasma, but of bone, muscle, and sinews that saw me unbreakable.

And my head was on fire, blistering with acid that slowly dissolved my humanity. This was a first-degree burn searing through my skull, filling it with chaos, driving my blood to beat two hundred times a minute and threatening once again to erase my reason.

"Bruce!"

And then, the first of many blackouts. My eyes were closed, but I knew it happened – a lapse in consciousness.

It ended quickly. I became victimized by the roaring in my ears.

"Bruce, it's me, Tony. Look at me. _Please _look at me!"

Something released inside; the roaring let off. This wasn't normal. Still, I jumped at the chance to have autonomy. My eyes jammed open with great effort, and I was overcome by a screen of erratic lights. It was almost impossible to see.

But I could see the person crouching close to the ground.

They were shrinking away from me, their eyes wide. Apologetic. I saw a hot light burning in the metal on their chest. It told me this person was familiar, perhaps an ally, but I couldn't fathom how. I felt drugged, my reaction rate slow.

I spoke but heard nothing. "…You?"

Before I could hope for a response, the hissing of blood started up again. I yelled with lungs that burned from the effort, but I couldn't hear myself. I smashed my fist into the sidewalk and rocky fragments exploded, flying into the air. I saw vessels and cells flowing behind my eyes in some form of transit system that was synced with my heart. Past this, there was a blurry figure that I didn't want to focus on.

I needed to kill it, to crush its bones against the concrete–

Then nothing.

The thought vanished completely.

Once again, my head convulsed into a whorl of darkness, and everything went blank. An imaginary, tantalizing sensation of blood crawled along my skin. I tensed up when the lapse ended, lending me less than a moment of reason before the next blackout arrived. They were happening faster now.

Closer.

Graver.

A fresh wave of pain lanced through all the muscles and nerves in my body, culminating to alter the deepest regions of myself. I knew the rest of my wearing conscience would fade for good now. It was draining out, and I was forced to accept the visions of blood and rage that took its place. I submitted to them.

A voice rang in my ear.

"Bruce!"

_Who's Bruce? And… Who's talking?_

A desperate and terrified voice, trying to be comforting.

"Bruce, you can do this. Come on. I'd really like to walk away in one piece tonight… If that's not too much trouble!"

After this, there was only silence, save for the pounding in my ears and the charred remnants of myself that screamed from rearrangement. But then I heard someone speak.

"Open your eyes."

_Open my eyes…?_

I groaned, imprisoned by sharp thorns of pain that were still shooting through my body. There was no way I'd open my eyes; I couldn't hurt the thing in front of me–

I froze.

_Wait…_

_ Did I really just think that?_

At this point, Banner should have been gone. Dead. And he definitely shouldn't have been able to conduct rational thoughts. To make the situation even stranger, my body suddenly went still. My eyes were shut and my hand was still gripping the sidewalk, but the pain – and the temptation to kill – vanished completely as I remained close to the ground. I could feel myself shivering, but not from the cold.

_Something's not right. Why can I still hear my thoughts?_

Terrified of what may be happening, I slowly opened my eyes to blurriness. They adjusted to clarity, and then I was nearly blinded from the vividness of what I saw.

Everything appeared to be still.

"Banner."

Gasping as if I hadn't breathed in ages, I looked up and saw Tony Stark. The armored man was crouching in front of me with a stunned expression. As soon as we locked gazes, though, it dissipated. Then he smiled wearily. "Well, that's a relief and a half. Good to see you again, Doc– er, big guy."

I blinked.

"Look at yourself," Tony said.

_What?_

Rolling his eyes, the engineer slowly reached forward. Past the scope of my vision, he retrieved an expanse of fabric and held it in front of me. The color rang familiar in my mind.

I just looked at it.

Tony rose to his feet and began staggering forward. Eventually, he got close enough to lean back against me and sink down onto the ruined concrete. I slowly moved an arm around him, feeling its warped dimensions, musculature, and nerve networks. My blood flowed throughout it.

There was disconnection.

I didn't understand.

"It's okay now," he whispered in relief. "You did it." Then he glanced up at me in contempt, his eyes glistening. "You know, you really had me going there for a bit. Don't ever do that again."

_Tony… I remember the change, all the pain. And you're saying there's nothing to worry about anymore, that I made it through? Because I didn't…_

_ No, wait. My arm…_

_ I'm still here!?_

That's when it finally hit me. Stark found me tonight, risking his life with one goal in mind – to save my humanity. But despite such genuine proof, and despite seeing the tattered remnants of my jacket, I still couldn't believe this really happened. My voice wouldn't work at first, so it took a moment to get dialect out. I had to learn to speak all over again.

"This… This can't be real." I felt my vocal cords moving, but I didn't hear myself speaking audibly.

"Yeah, buddy, it's real."

_He heard._

Tony looked up at me again and fell into my arm. "Just relax, okay?"

I took him up on his offer, exhaling and closing my eyes. As I did, my vision faded to black, along with my worries. Although this all seemed like just a dream, a nightmare turned into something more, deep down I knew it wasn't so.

My body became cold. The burning, which had melted into a dull warmth sometime during all of this, faded away like it was never there to begin with. It left me weak, and I couldn't stop myself from falling forward.

"Easy there, Doc. I got you."

He caught me.

I felt the commotion of thrusters coming to life and the feathering of wind over my human skin. And then, I experienced nothing but newborn peace. I was a changed man – if not literally anymore – so I was content to fall asleep, unchained by fear and darkness, as Tony Stark carried me home.


	5. Discovery

**V.**  
**Discovery**

* * *

Upon waking, the first thing I heard was an air horn.

My upper body flew up until I was locked in a sitting position. I kicked off a blanket and wiped the sleep from my eyes. Simultaneously, I steadied my breathing and cursed whoever was stupid enough to try such a risky prank.

Examining what just happened proved more difficult than I thought. There was no movement, so the culprit had probably run off. I was alone on a couch, in a large and spacious room with monochrome tile flooring. There was a second, smaller couch on my right, and behind it was a panoramic window. I saw a bar with a marble countertop.

My mind was still groggy. _Where…?_

The space, lit by the midday sun, was contemporary. It didn't take long before I made the connection.

_Oh my god. How did I end up back at the Tower?_

I tried to process the events between yesterday night and now, but it brought me to an odd conclusion. I couldn't make sense of it. There was just noise and faded memories that got clearer when I focused on them, but I was too groggy to decode anything.

_Unless…_

_Oh shit. No, no, no…_

I looked myself up and down, suddenly aware that I was wearing different clothes – namely, tan slacks and a peach-colored shirt. There was only one reason for this, and I was afraid of what it meant this time.

What was the damage? And this was Tony's home; where was he?

Madly consumed by dread, I was about to stand up and scan outside the window. I didn't make it that far, though – I almost jumped when the playboy came up beside me. There was an open bottle of Shiraz in his hand, the aromatic wine still plentiful. He sunk down onto the couch.

"My, my, someone's edgy," he mentioned.

"Stark…" I looked around the room. "What happened? Why am I back here?"

"Hey. Stop squirming, _relax_, and look at me."

My body went hot with irritation as I turned to face him. "Please… Tell me what happened last night."

Tony appeared to inspect me closely. Seconds later, and much to my perplexity, he burst out laughing. "Well, I guess that explains why you're so angry this morning." The billionaire relocated himself on the couch.

"Stark."

He smiled in satisfaction. "Why don't you just think for a moment?"

"How many people?" I asked, growing impatient.

"No one. Seriously. It was kind of a two-man show."

"And why do I find that so hard to believe?"

"You'd better believe it."

"This is getting old." Then my temper flared – Stark still hadn't answered any of my questions. I refracted my anger to the object in his hands. "Why are you carting around a bottle of wine?"

"Oh, this? It's celebratory."

His response provoked nothing but shock. This certainly wasn't the time to celebrate – people could've died last night. "You're being–"

"Okay, you know what? Take five. You obviously don't realize what you sound like right now."

I reached out a hand. "Give it to me."

"Doc, you're growling. Stop growling." He moved towards the opposite end of the couch and held the wine out of arm's reach.

_What on earth are you talking about?_

Amidst this odd accusation, Tony's expression had gone from passive to curious. And surprisingly, he didn't put up a fight when I snagged the prize from his hand. But the next thing I knew, the bottle had burst into pieces. Deep red wine and glass spilled all over the tile.

I glanced at the floor, then Stark – he looked as if I'd just parted the Red Sea. My focus returned to the wine, which was soaking into the tile in a bloodlike manner. "What's going on?"

He sighed. "That was good wine, you klutz."

There was no way I could've broken the bottle, but my disbelief was pointless. It happened. Even more confusing was the lack of pain from having glass splinter over my skin. Bewildered, I inspected my palm for cuts without letting the rest of the glass drop from it. _…Nothing?_

Something definitely wasn't right. My entire limb seemed a bit pale against the peach-colored top I was sporting. It wasn't too noticeable, but it was there.

Tony leaned back on the couch, looking expectant.

I ignored him and looked at the black glass I was holding. As soon as I caught a glimpse of my reflection in one of the shards, I gaped stupidly and moved them in closer. "No… There's no way this is happening."

Looking into the glass, I saw the eyes of my other self staring back at me.

"Yeah way," he replied.

I flushed in disbelief. Then I dropped the glass, and I suddenly started to feel funny. It was a strange sensation, something I'd never felt before, but I couldn't tell if it was good or bad. It made me uncomfortable. "I… I need a mirror."

Without waiting for an answer, I scarpered towards the bathroom.

Tony remained on the couch in the other room and called out to me. "Banner, do yourself a favor and don't flip out. It should be like a muscle now, so just think and relax."

_Okay… _Peering into the mirror, I was relieved to see myself in its entirety, although my suspicions were correct – my irises had adopted a multi-toned green hue. As I observed the man in the mirror, he inclined towards me and blinked his eyes. The interaction continued for a few moments. We were both trying to make a connection that was already there.

Sometime during this, my head started working at a rapid pace. I could suddenly remember everything that happened to the Other Guy. I never thought these memories would divulge themselves, but now they played in my mind's eye with great vividness.

_Watch those levels. …Banner? Oh my god; what's happening?_

_ Is that it? Is that all you got?_

_ Watch your head._

This last recollection involved the cavernous mouth of a cave, surrounded by forest and softened by rain. I wasn't myself, harboring anger towards the military, but somehow I was calm at the same time. I was content to have saved–

_Back at the campus… I protected her. And I knew who she was. Betty was right._

More images, voices, reeled through me.

_It's okay._

_ Keep the fighting here… And Hulk – smash._

The more I focused on recalling past events, the more vivid they became. Soon, one particular memory jogged me away from all the rest:

_Stop him. He's falling._

The man in the mirror stepped back in amazement, not taking his eyes off me. At the same time he saw a flash of concrete and rock, feeling the impact of landing on a car and the distress of laying an unconscious metal suit onto the street.

_I did save Tony._

So he wasn't just trying to kiss up. I felt bad for doubting him, leaving him behind to think I didn't trust his account. The sheer number of thoughts in my head, combined with the realization that I saved his life, was overwhelming. I had trouble keeping up with the emotional repercussions.

I broke into tears. For the first time in a lifetime, I didn't try to hold them in.

"Tony…"

He came up beside me. "Banner?"

"I really did save you…"

"Of course. What else would you have done?"

I failed to see his reaction, but I didn't care. All I could do was offer him a hug, which he awkwardly accepted. As my gratitude escaped, I took care not to crush any bones. There was an influx of strength in my limbs – my eyes may have suggested it, but I could definitely feel it, too. "Thank you… Thank you so much."

"It's gonna be okay, Doctor."

I could tell his discomfort was growing. Even so, I didn't break away yet. I imagined years of wear and rust, paint covering paint, dried blood, stripping off and away from my body. "This is real… Isn't it?"

"Yes. And you can stop crying now. I'd rather not have to break out the mop."

I stepped away and wiped my eyes.

Now that I was calmer, I noticed there was a pulse beating in the back of my brain. It wasn't there before today, but it didn't actually seem like an oddity. Even so, I knew it could go away if I wanted it to – and I gave it a try. Something flexed in my mind. It wasn't physical, but more unique. Natural. My vision took on a slight haziness, removing the obvious clarity it gained from the pulse, and I turned to the mirror.

I was myself again. No more green eyes.

As I stood there reflecting, Stark went to pour me a glass of water.

The glass was cold with condensation and full of ice, but – much to his surprise – I refused to down it. I wasn't thirsty. He said it would be a good idea to drink something, however, so I took one meager sip to calm his insistence and walked out of the bathroom.

"Tony," I began as I swished the glass, "what did you do to me?"

He followed me out, sitting on the query for a painful moment before answering. "It's what you tried in Rocinha – that white flower thing. Literally, it was _the_ same compound."

"So why didn't it work when I tried it?"

"Uh, firstly, your equipment sucked. A _bike tire_ centrifuge going, like, two rotations a minute for mixing? Really? You probably got a forty-percent concentration – if you were lucky. Secondly, I kind of… Mixed some poisonous plants into it."

I cocked a brow. That was an idea only Stark would foster. The serum had clearly worked without making me sick, but I grew nervous all the same. "Which plants?"

"Castor beans."

I nearly spit out the water I'd been sipping. _You're joking._

He was perturbingly casual in the rest of his explanation. "Ten of the little suckers, and that's a pretty high dose. The lethal dose for – pardon my French – people who _aren't_ completely fucked up by gamma rays is about six. Anyways, I processed them into ricin before–"

"Let me get this straight – you pumped me full of _ricin _last night?"

"Pretty much," he confirmed. "Genius, isn't it?"

"How did you know it was safe?"

"Jarvis isn't exactly stupid, Banner."

"…You trusted a computer_,_" I breathed in disbelief.

"No," he retorted. "I trusted _myself_. Jarvis is–"

"Definitely not you."

He pursed his lip. "_Point being_, it worked, didn't it? So stop wigging out on me and take a breather. I do have a decent background in biochemistry, you know."

"You could've killed me."

"Oh, for Pete's sake," he countered. "Who do I look like – _Dexter?_ I don't go around in the night, killing people with beans."

"You're right." I knew an earnest smile was growing on my face, but it was shadowed by hesitancy. "How long will this last?"

"As long as you need it to. In other words…"

_Permanent._

This all seemed too good to be true. However, if there was one thing Tony never did, it was lie.

I looked down at my hand, turning it over to view my palm. Then I decided to test how much control I had over myself now. Perhaps it was against my better judgment, but according to Tony, there wouldn't be any problems. Impulsively, I locked gazes with him in a nonverbal request for permission.

He almost seemed sad. "I don't care, Banner. I'm your friend. Don't look at me like I'm Ross."

I didn't realize he would take the action so poorly. And comparing him to the military was the last thing I wanted to accomplish. "I'm not. I just wanted to make sure it's okay."

Stark leaned back against the wall and shrugged. "I'm not going to tell you what to do with your body. That's just weird, and wrong, and a billion other things…"

We broke into a pair of amused smiles.

After this, I returned to the matter at hand, taking a deep breath. This was my first run at controlling the entity that had caged Banner for the better part of his life. I didn't know what changing would feel like now. But I couldn't dwell on this. My mind hardened, focusing, allowing a degree of newly-warmed blood to fill my head.

Stark tried to hold back a chuckle. "And, cue the eyes."

* * *

_**Please leave a short review if you can! Thank you! =)**_


	6. Trick of Fortune

_Progress is good. But proceed too fast, and  
you'll just be stumbling backwards._

**VI.**  
**Trick of Fortune**

* * *

I chuckled at Stark, focusing on the heat that was surrounding my head. To my surprise, it seemed to be maneuverable. I brought it down to my right hand. As the heat travelled, I felt a number of tiny pains that ran along my collarbone, shoulder, and triceps. They continued onwards, wholly tolerable. Then I forced the heat all the way into my fingertips.

Stark was quiet now, intent with curiosity.

My head was starting to pound faster and faster. I could no longer feel my heartbeat in my chest, for the pulse had migrated to the back of my skull. Sensations in my right hand had been cleaved off and refastened in a stronger way than before.

_I'm taking this way too slowly._

My approach intensified. I mentally forced the hottest of blood down my arm. I wasn't prepared for the result, though – the heat quickly augmented my entire limb, causing it to pulse outward into a new form. I cringed and shut my eyes.

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Banner. Open your eyes."

I obeyed. Amazingly enough, I felt nothing but curiosity towards the new arm. It hadn't reached its final size – probably because I wasn't fully changed – but it still had a much heavier mass. Subsequently, I had to regain my center of gravity, but I could still lift the arm with ease. It carried a deep emerald tone, one that radiated up towards my back and face. The color was verified by a feeling of warmth.

_This is incredible._

I stared at my arm as I moved the wrist and fingers. Somehow, I didn't feel a twinge of separation or fear like I thought I would.

_You've saved my life, Tony._

"Cool stuff," the tycoon said. He moved forward and picked up a strip of peach from my shoulder. "But you just wrecked the shirt. There's many things I hate, Banner, and one of them is shopping."

I looked and realized at once. "Sorry." Then, senselessly reaching around with my other arm to remove it, I only made the tearing worse.

_Darn._

Stark was clearly at the point of ad nauseum. "Well, it'll make a good rag."

I didn't know how to react. The situation had become so strange in a matter of seconds – here I was, struggling to keep a shirt together with my own conscience intact. We both stood there.

"That's it?"

My changed hand was coiling up into a nervous fist. "What do you mean?"

"You're not gonna... I don't know… _Hulk out?_"

"I'm not _what?_"

The billionaire stepped closer and harvested more pieces of fabric from my arm. "It's a little catchphrase I made up. But seriously, Banner – don't tell me you're stopping there."

Stark was correct. I wasn't intending to go any further than this. "I don't know if I'm ready. I need some time."

He snorted, rolling the recovered fibers into a ball. "You know what's gonna happen? You'll say the same thing next week. And the week after that. Heck, if I wasn't around, you'd probably wait a year."

I sighed. "I know."

"Come on, Doc – I'll be right here. Obviously. What do you say?"

"Well…"

_I suppose it wouldn't hurt._

"Hop to it," he encouraged. "And don't worry about the pants."

I gave him a look.

It didn't last for long, though. I lassoed a portion of the heat in my arm and pulled it into my shoulder. I was expanding it, permitting it to pass through the rest of my bones, muscles, and blood, filling me with pins and needles that could herald a change. But I wasn't warm enough yet.

Tony stepped back and put his hands in his pockets. "Wow. So impressive. Kodak moment, right there."

I laughed. Concurrently, the pounding in my skull became harsher. My changed arm grew hotter and hotter, as did the rest of my body – a full transformation was waiting for my mark.

"Okay, Tony," I said. "I think I'm ready."

"Take it away."

I commanded the heat in my system to reach maximum levels. A wave of newfound conversions filled me up. I clenched my jaw as my blood darkened into pale green. Fresh bands of muscle overtook my frame, constricting it but freeing it at the same time. My breathing became heavier, hungry for oxygen, and my vision perfected itself with changes that flickered in tune with my heartbeat.

And it didn't hurt.

It felt _invigorating_ – almost like some kind of thirst had been soothed. Regardless, my weight was increasing, and it became hard to stay upright. I sank to my knees.

"You okay in there, Doc?"

It wasn't done quite yet – I could tell. "Yes."

_…Wow._

My voice had darkened considerably. I didn't even sound like Banner anymore. But I continued listening to the pulse in my head as the change settled down. And then, within moments, it was over.

"How're you feeling, Doc?"

I shifted my weight and tried to stand up. When I finally did, my posture could barely constitute standing. "Actually… Kinda good."

"So everything's okay?"

There was a flash of heat. Agitation. "Yes. Banner's fine."

Tony snickered. "Oh, wow – did you really just speak in third-person?"

Embarrassment curdled my blood. Then, something else happened.

I snarled.

It happened before I could stop it. The sound was visceral, unable to be controlled or repressed. It was likely part of my nature, but this didn't keep my mortification from rising. Of course, Tony just looked at me and tried to contain another fit of laughter.

"Stop mocking Banner."

He walked past me and sat down on the couch. "It's called _fun_. Have some."

I let out a huff. There was no point in subjecting myself to his teasing, so it was time to revert. But when I tried to pull the heat from my system, it didn't move. I stood there – waiting – to no avail. "Tony."

"Hm?"

"Having trouble here."

The philanthropist groaned. "What?"

I fought the urge to snarl again. At the same time, I tried to start another reversion, but it was fruitless. I began to panic. "Trouble. Can't change back."

"Of course you can."

"How?"

"You tell me. I'm not the Hulk."

"And you're saying that _he is?_ He's two separate–"

I couldn't continue. I had just realized that I was no longer a man divided. There _was_ no Other Guy anymore. I _was _the Hulk. And only now did I realize just how unprepared I was for that.

My heart began to race, the noise palpable in my head and chest. I had to move. I had to do something. I was stuck like this until I figured out how to revert – if I even could.

_Bathroom. _

My memories had been galvanized by a glance in the mirror, so maybe it would help here. I stumbled over to the door, ignoring Tony's urgent comments. But then I stopped – I realized that I didn't want to see myself like this. My chest tightened. "No!"

"Bruce! Calm down, will you?"

I spun around. Tony was walking toward me, but I kept my distance from him, shrinking back against the wall. My features constricted. "He is calm!"

"No," he countered, "you're going loopy!"

"Shut up!"

"Bruce, listen – you gotta trust me! Remember what I told you last night, to have a bit of faith in me? I'd really appreciate that right now." He dropped his shoulders. "Please."

I growled. But it was a knee-jerk response. In truth, I wanted to vindicate what Stark was saying. "You want Banner to trust you?"

"Yeah. Trust would be nice."

Another growl escaped from me.

"Okay, now you're just being a drama queen."

"He learned it from you."

Tony's reaction was surprisingly mellow – all he did was sigh. "I don't doubt it."

My expression softened. His demeanor was calming me down in a rather impulsive way. I stooped to his level and lowered my head. "Sorry."

"Why? I deserved it, Bruce."

"Hmm."

Tony walked up to me and gave me a pat on the shoulder. "Good boy."

I snorted and backed away from him. And once I did, the situation became a bit less imperative. Maybe Tony was right. Maybe I could change back, and I just needed to think.

"Look, Doctor," he said. "Changing back is doable. It's just… Well, a little _weird._"

"Go on."

"You have a whacked version of the super soldier serum, right? So think about Rogers. It's been years, but he hasn't turned back into a twig. The serum blocks any chance of regression when it's active – that's why you feel like you can't change right now. But you've got a way around it, so… Uh… Jarvis?"

"I am listening, sir."

"Tell Banner how to change back before he kills me, will you?"

I perked up and listened to the British voice. "Doctor, my calculations suggest there may be a switch, or another form of regulator, that you need to manipulate first."

I searched inside my head.

_…You're right._

It was there – a small part of me that was locked up, almost like a failsafe. But it was just as malleable as the heat itself, so I quickly flicked it open. "Thanks."

"Glad to be of assistance, Doctor."

Unwilling to spend another moment like this, I instructed my body to cool off. The heat – and the pulse – retreated into my skull. I supported myself against the couch until it was over.

Tony walked up to me, a fresh shirt in tow. "Here."

I took it and began putting it on. "I'm not doing that again."

"Yeah, that's what they all say–"

"Stop." All I could think about was how my guises – one of death, one of a careworn life – were merged now. I was one step closer to all the destruction the Other Guy caused. "I was too rash with all of this, Tony. I have to leave."

« • »

I couldn't believe my ears. "Banner, I don't get it. You have control, you're not a fugitive, but you're saying you need to _leave?_ What is it this time? Is there another top-secret military group I should know about?"

He looked at his feet.

"You're more messed up than I thought, Banner."

The scientist became derisive. "You don't know what I've sacrificed for the Other Guy."

"But it's only you, now."

He gritted his teeth. "I know – I'm not an idiot. _You_, however…"

"Whoa. Are you trying to scare me away like you did with everyone else? 'Cause I can see how it worked."

I must have killed Banner's mood, because he scratched his head and sighed. "Yeah, it worked… Sometimes too well. But it doesn't matter. I can't stay."

"Says who?"

He began walking towards the elevator door.

"Banner, wait." _Please._

He stopped and glanced back at me.

"What's bothering you? Is it Ross? _Me?_ Heaven help me if it's about the pants_._"

He fiddled with his hands. "No; it's just… I can't accept the Other Guy as a part of me yet. It's done so much damage, and being one with it… Tony, I was so scared when I couldn't change back today. I have a lot to think about."

"So it was stupid of me to help you."

Banner smiled. "No, Tony – it was inspiring."

Then he vanished into the elevator. I stared ahead.

"Sir."

"What?"

"He'll return."

_Great, false hope. _"I don't believe you."

"A hostile remark, sir. But I'm well aware that you believe yourself. In theory, you should trust me as well – as I recall, when you spoke with Banner, you implied that we're the same person."

"Go fry your circuits."

The AI gave a chirping sound. "I'd rather not, sir. I suggest, instead of waiting for this game of Whac-A-Mole to end, that you occupy yourself with something other than brooding. It does become rather tiresome."

I scoffed. "Why worry at all? He'll be back, just like you said."

_Because he just needs some time to think._

* * *

**_Please R&R? :3_**


	7. Salt in the Wounds

_WARNING:_ _references to suicide ahead._

**VII.  
****Salt in the Wounds**

* * *

"Yeah. He's not coming back, Jarvis."

"Sir, forgive me if I sound like a broken record, but you might actually want to _listen_ to my recommendations for once. Stop worrying. Besides, it's only been five hours."

_Five hours… What a joke._

I shifted the toothpick in my teeth and looked out the window. The sky was dark with evening space, and it only made things bleaker. It was stupid how much I wanted Banner to come back. I couldn't cheer up unless I knew my serum had actually helped him out. But there he went, running away with the devil on his shoulder again. The whole prospect of 'help' was pretty much down the toilet at this point.

_At least he's not upset about something that's out of my control. But still… This just plain sucks._

"Sir, something tells me you're still moping."

I sighed. "Let's face it – he's gone to the dark side."

"An astute deduction, sir. They do have cookies."

"Bite me."

Jarvis didn't respond at first. But then he spoke up again, this time with something a bit more promising. "It appears the Doctor is here and would like to enter the Tower."

I snapped out of my stupor. "Are you seriously asking me for permission? Let the guy in."

"Will do, sir."

After tossing my toothpick in the trash, my impatience quickly bubbled up. I paced around the room and waited for the elevator doors to open.

« • »

I adjusted my sleeve as the elevator carried me up to the penthouse. I didn't know what Tony would say, or if he'd even let me stay. But I had some things of my own to tell him.

The doors couldn't have opened any faster. I stepped into the room and saw Tony standing mere feet away from me. There was an odd martini glass scattered here and there, crystalline in the dull lighting, throwing prisms of color throughout the room. Tony crossed his arms. "So, you're back."

"Don't be like that.

He walked closer and became stunned, some sort of realization having surfaced. "You got a haircut. _You_, the guy who doesn't even have the motive to stay in a building. And…" He paused, then he smiled. "Oh, great."

"What?"

"The Hulk with a crew cut. That's all I can think of right now."

I flushed. "I knew it was a bad idea."

He shrugged and gestured for us to walk towards the middle of the room. "The truth hurts. Well, you'll be right as rain in a few months, so don't worry about it too much. You'll just have to deal with looking like Colin Farrell right now."

"That's not a compliment, is it?"

He groaned. "Banner, you look fine! Learn to take a joke."

Things still seemed a little tense. "Are we okay, then?"

"What's that supposed to mean? If we weren't okay, I'd have Jarvis give you the boot. I do have one question, though – how do I know you're not gonna run off again?"

I glanced at the walls, then the floor. "I've been thinking a lot, Tony. It's…"

"Oh, you've been thinking for the past five hours?"

"Actually, I spent most of my time, uh…"

"Thinking?" Tony pressed.

I looked at him again. "Hulked-out."

The philanthropist grinned. "You sneaky bastard, you. How was it? Scary? Awful?"

"Peaceful." And this was true. I had gone to the fringe of the city for a few hours and changed so I could come to terms with the Hulk. Many things were still eating away at me – like Elizabeth's death – but the Hulk wasn't responsible for that. My guilt would ebb away in time. "I… I think I'm ready to start again."

"Good," he said. "It's about time you learned how to act like a human being."

"Whatever you say."

He picked up a drained martini glass from the table. "Actually, you know what I say, Banner? I say we go out for a while. Coffee and donuts."

I pursed my brow. "At ten in the evening? No bars, or nightclubs?"

Tony smirked. "Why, were you thinking of that instead?"

"No, not really."

He was clearly amused by our exchange. "That's what I thought. Coffee and donuts it is. Jarvis, bar all calls until I get back, will you?"

The voice resounded. "Pepper, sir? She's in tomorrow, so you should be expecting a call."

"Yes, even Potts. Don't make me cut the phone line."

« • »

Tony came up beside me and spoke into my ear. "Make sure you get Danishes, too."

"Okay." We were still in line, so I looked around the café.

It was a quaint little place that smelled of coffee beans and baking, further characterized by auburn walls with a gold trim. The building was rather empty right now, and I'd never been here before, but I knew this was the kind of café that encouraged people to return.

"Today, Banner."

He pushed me up to the front of the line. I relayed my order to the cashier, amazed at how I wasn't tentative during the interaction. But while the kind scents of the café were reassuring, I still felt a bit glum. This life would take some getting used to.

We sat down after receiving our order. Tony began to look around in disappointment. "Wow, I was expecting more people." Then he turned to me. "It's usually packed when I come here – even at night. After all, I usually do drive-through."

"You mean fly-through? In that donut on the roof?"

He stole a pastry from the plate in between us. "Something like that. Actually, now that I think about it, it's probably quiet because of the invasion. People are too chicken to go outside."

I nodded.

"Anyways, what's next on the agenda?"

The comment took me by surprise. "I haven't decided yet."

"You could always be Iron Man's sidekick."

I fastened my hands around a mug of coffee. "If that means revealing myself, then no. I fell off the face of the earth eight years ago. I'm not giving myself away now. No one would trust me, and…"

He pursed his lip. "Okay. Scratch that. However, I do think we need to talk about pants."

"What about pants?"

"You need some."

I looked at the new pair of jeans I was wearing. "Sorry?"

"I finished this project back at the Tower. They look like normal jeans, but they're way better at holding it together when you Hulk out. You're not butchering any more of my wardrobe." Tony took another mouthful of pastry and finished his proposition with a swig of coffee. "You gotta try them on sometime. That's an order."

"Tony…" I began, taking a Danish and turning it over in my hands. "It's not going to be a regular thing. But I appreciate the thought."

"Jee, Banner. If I were you, I'd be all over it."

"Don't be so quick to make assumptions."

Tony looked confused at first. "About what? Wait…" Then his expression became knowing. "Are you still having daddy issues with the rage monster, Doc? I thought you said things were better now."

_Oops, here we go. _"It's not important. And it's nothing I can't handle on my own."

He cringed. "Scary. If I was gullible, I might have actually believed you. You wouldn't have brought it up unless it was important, Doctor."

"I didn't bring it up."

"You implied it."

"And you inferred it, Tony."

He waved the leftover pastry he was holding. "Who cares. Are you gonna tell me what's going on or not? Because I have something to tell you, too."

My gaze dropped to the plate in between us. I'd have preferred to avoid such a sensitive memory – I was hoping to move on from it – but Tony was being… Well, _Tony_. "It's about someone I used to know."

He frowned and picked up a straw off the table, tearing away one end of its wrapper. Then he put the unwrapped end in his mouth and blew the remaining paper at me. "That _already_ sounds important, you liar. Keep going. Get it out."

I brought my hands together. "Her name was Elizabeth. But everyone called her Betty."

"Relation?"

"We grew up together. Before the accident, we both worked at Culver University in the science division."

He leaned back into his seat. "Girlfriend?"

"Yeah."

"That's cute. So, what happened?"

My throat closed up. It took a moment to speak again. "All these years, she never stopped trying to help me. But things kept getting worse. One day, I just told her that enough was enough. We couldn't do this anymore."

Tony gaped. "Let me get this straight – you had one good relationship, and you put it down like a sick puppy?"

"She was in too much danger. I couldn't bear the thought of–"

"Oh, brilliant. Guilt evasion."

"It's more complicated than that."

"Try me."

I tried to sound objective. "Last year, there was an incident in Madison. I was so aggravated that I didn't even recognize Betty as a friend. Things spun out of control, and I ended up breaking her arm… I knew it was time to let her go. That night, I tried telling her to move on with her life, because I was damaged beyond repair. But she wouldn't walk away."

He frowned. "What happened?"

"I started yelling and slamming doors. I told her I'd kill her if she kept following me. I still don't know if that was a fact or a threat, but whatever it was, it had to be done. Betty's father would never leave me alone, and every time we fought, somebody got hurt…"

Stark was horrified. "Wait, who was her father?"

"General Ross."

He blinked and dropped the Danish onto the table. "You're shitting me."

I shook my head, looking around the café for eavesdroppers. "And there's something else…"

"Hey, wait. Slow down, Banner."

"I killed her."

The philanthropist didn't know what to make of this. He looked sick to his stomach. "You _what?_"

"I left her that night. When I got enough distance between us, when I was across the border, I sent her an envelope. It had her mother's necklace inside of it. Betty gave it to me when we were still on good terms. If I only knew that giving it back would…"

"Banner."

"They found her with a bullet in her head, a gun with her fingerprints."

"Banner, look. You're not responsible."

Tears welled up. "Don't say that."

He leaned closer and pushed the plate aside. "For god's sake, listen – _you didn't do anything wrong_."

I ignored him. "I knew Ross was broken up about her suicide. Maybe it was a stupid idea, but I wanted to walk right up to his door and apologize to him. I wanted to be the better man. But Ross is dead, and now my chance is gone."

Silence.

"I'm sorry, Banner."

I cradled the mug of coffee in my hand. "I'm not looking for pity – it's my fault, and it's been that way since the beginning. I've accepted that. But getting over the guilt… That's the hardest part. I loved her, Tony."

He nodded. "I'm sure she was a keeper."

"She was the reason I kept going all those years. After she died, I went straight to the Arctic."

He understood. "You got low… So that's how it happened."

"Exactly."

Things were quiet for a while, but Tony eventually spoke up. "How about we leave and get some sleep, Banner? You've got some pretty good bags under your eyes."

I blinked away persisting emotions. "Okay. But Tony, after we walk out of here, please don't bring this stuff up again. My past probably seems like a huge deal to you, but I need to move on from it."

He was quick to reply. "You have my word, Doc."

We collected ourselves and stood up. As we did, Stark offered me the last donut on the plate. I declined, so he took it for himself. The whole time, though, he seemed a bit distracted, and his face was pale.

"Oh… Tony?"

He looked at me. "Yep?"

"You said you had something to tell me earlier?"

The billionaire took a bite from his pastry and glanced around the room. "It's nothing important. Let's get you home, Doc. You've had a long day."

He was right. Today had been a huge step for me – this was the beginning of a new connection between myself and the Hulk. Not only this, but I was capable of moving past my mistakes and culpability, now more than ever. I couldn't wait to fall asleep tonight.


	8. Gore

_WARNING:_ _references to suicide and self-injury._

**VIII.  
Gore**

* * *

My dreams were ominous that night.

In one of them, I was falling down a chasm. Darkness had smothered my sense of space and sight, so I couldn't see how close I was to hitting the ground. All I knew was that the impact would be fatal. Subsequently, I was trying to change so I could protect myself.

But I couldn't.

To make things worse, the problem wasn't even corporeal – it was emotional. I knew transforming would save my life, and I tried to make it happen, but some part of me was screaming, _no._

_ You're staying like this. You deserve this._

_ After all, you've ruined three lives._

Two of these people were Elizabeth and Ross. Their lives had crumbled under the weight of my mistakes. But the third person was faceless. Unknown.

_Unknown because you've scared them into staying hidden._

My confusion grew.

And in the very last moment, my feet hit the ground. A ribbon of shocks pulsed up the chasm and broke it apart. White light surged through the cracks and drowned out my vision. I heard a faint pounding in the back of my head, and when it laughed with sick indulgence, I suddenly knew it had been there all along. I realized what this meant. My hope faded.

There was no need to change, because I already had.

_You're staying like this. You deserve this._

« • »

…_What a horrible dream._

I woke on the couch with a groan and grasped for the covers. They had fallen to the floor, so it took a moment to rescue them. Then I realized I'd only been asleep for a few hours. Everything was still fairly dark, save for the kitchen lights.

They were on – but dimmed.

In their lowered state, they made a humming sound that grated on my ears. It bothered me. Since I was too uneasy to fall back asleep, I stood up and entered the kitchen to turn the switch all the way on.

The counter hosted some fruit and a block of knives. There were Cheetos strewn all over the place, too, and they weren't there before, so Tony had probably stayed up. Perhaps he was still awake. But I didn't bother to check up on him.

Instead, my attention crept toward the knives. They were sitting in a block made from maple wood. As I drew closer, they reminded me of the clashes between the Hulk and the military.

_It's amazing how I survived everything…_

_ Then again, the Hulk's practically a juggernaut._

I pulled out the largest blade. The steel resonated under the kitchen lights, and it was very impressive, but it wasn't a threat to the Hulk. That's when I became curious – what did it feel like to have such immunity?

_ Wouldn't hurt to see._

I leaned against the counter and pressed the blade into my palm, hoping for some kind of odd feeling or sensation. Nothing happened, so I began to press harder, forcing the–

"Shit."

The knife tore open my palm. The cutlery fell to the floor, and it was followed by a mass of blood. It seeped from the wound and dripped down my hand. I knew what happened.

_You didn't even change… Stupid. Well, that's what you get for being half-asleep._

I sent heat into my bloodstream. It passed through my head, changing my eyes and filling my hand with pins and needles. The leaking blood slowly became a muddled brown, then olive, then it stopped flowing entirely. Beneath the potluck of colors, there was no trace of a scar.

"…Banner?"

The voice came from the stairs. I looked up and saw Tony standing there with his hands in his pockets. He seemed a bit fazed, and his eyes were bloodshot – he'd been drinking. I didn't mention it. "Sorry. I'll clean this up."

Tony was sullen. "That's it? You'll 'clean it up'? It's blood, not an omelette. And why were you messing with the knives in the first place? Are you going manic? Do you need an intervention?"

"I wasn't trying to–"

"So why is there red on the floor, but green in your eyes? You changed _after_ you stuck the blade in your hand." He started walking towards me. "If not, I must be going crazy."

My heart pounded. There was no point in reasoning with Tony right now – his resolve would be impossible to change. I broke eye contact with him and opened the nearest drawer, reaching inside for a paper towel.

"Yeah, go ahead. Ignore me."

I played docile, wiping my hand off and kneeling down to clean the rest of the blood. My gaze stayed with the knife that had fallen to the floor. Tony staggered forward and leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Hey, green-eyes. I'm talking to you."

The paper towel absorbed all the crimson in one go. I stood up, tossing the towel into the garbage bin and the knife into the sink. "You're drunk."

"Never noticed."

"It's not healthy–"

"Seriously? You're harping about how much booze I drink? You'd be singing a very different tune if you knew what I've been through."

"I do know."

He grew quiet. "Really?"

"Yeah. I know what happened in Afghanistan, Tony." Then I turned on the tap to rinse the knife. Blood mingled with water, switching between clear and crimson as the blend fell off the blade.

"That's not even a _smidgen_ of what I've faced. You wouldn't get it."

My grip on the knife tightened. The pulse in my head grew stronger as I turned to him. "I've killed people, Tony. I've stood right in front of them and watched them go, and before yesterday, the Hulk enjoyed it."

He scowled and stepped closer to me. There was liquor on his breath. "Oh, I'm shaking in my space boots. Have you ever shot a man in the head and watched them bleed out, Doc?"

I looked away.

"Have you? Hm?"

"No." _I haven't thought about it like that. I'm sorry. _I placed the knife in the sink, and it sat there unassumingly. But the purity of the blade didn't matter – the air was still thick with the tang of blood.

"I thought so. You were never in the weapons business."

"You should get some sleep, Tony."

"Maybe you should, too," he retorted. "Just like Betty and Ross did."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me."

My hand gripped the counter. "You don't really think I'd–"

"Christ, Banner – you're unbelievable! I've gone up shit creek for you, and this is how you repay me? I get sacked? How can you pick up a knife and bleed all over the floor, but still have the guts to call me delusional?" He began to slow down. "Why are you doing this, Doc…?"

Then he stopped.

"Don't stress out, Tony. Just take a minute and–"

"Yeah, yeah. Relax." He fell into the counter and rubbed his eyes. "You do have a point, Banner. I'd much rather beat the crap out of you when I'm sober… What time is it?"

"Way past our bedtimes."

He sighed.

I took my hand away from the counter and cooled my blood. Now was my chance. "Look… I'm not upset about Ross and Betty. And I'm not thinking of doing anything stupid – I promise. You've had a lot to drink, so–"

"So I'm bitching about nothing? I'll be the judge of that tomorrow, when I can actually see straight." Then he groaned. "And yes, I'm drunk enough to hug the toilet seat. Big whoop. Thanks for the reminder. We'll talk later."

"Sure." _Please just get some rest… It'll help when you're a little more consistent._

Tony ambled off to his bedroom – a space tucked into the end of the hallway – and closed the door. I simply returned to the couch. This time, I fell into a dreamless slumber.

But perhaps that was for the better.

« • »

The next morning, I was fully refreshed.

I showered, brushed my teeth, and brushed my hair until I thought it looked passable. Then I took a moment and propped myself against the wall. My throat was dry, but the residual vapor from the shower helped soften it. There was a fresh pair of clothes hanging on the towel rack – a white polo and tan slacks – so I slipped them on.

When I finally left the bathroom, I found Tony sitting at the counter with a plate of scrambled eggs. He nudged it over to me. "The rooster crowed an hour ago, Doc. Where were you?"

"Getting ready."

"You're the tardiest person ever. Sit down."

I complied and picked up a fork.

"First thing's first – you better not be pissed at me over last night. I had one too many drinks. End of story."

"I'm not, Tony." _Your problems aren't mine to fix._

"Good… But enough about me. What happened to _you?_ Clue me in, because that was one hell of a blood puddle."

I prodded the eggs and turned them around. They were overdone. "Well, I just woke up and decided to try something. You said it yourself – if you could transform, you'd be all over it, so I thought–"

"Blood, Banner. Where does the blood factor in?"

"I was testing my immunity, but I was half asleep… I forgot to change first. You know what it's like in the middle of the night. Sometimes you just don't realize–"

"Okay, okay, stop talking. I get it."

"Sorry."

He frowned. "Really? You're apologizing?"

"Yeah. I did something wrong. I'm sorry, but–"

"No!" The philanthropist got out of his chair and paced around. "We are so not doing this again! Banner, apologize one more time and you'll be wearing your breakfast."

"It's taboo?"

"If you don't want a faceful of egg, yeah."

"Is this some kind of twisted rehabilitation technique?"

"Maybe."

"And what do I get out of it?"

"See, _that's_ the million-dollar question, Doc. Anyways, you keep throwing yourself to the vultures and you don't even realize you're doing it. We gotta nip that problem in the bud."

"I didn't realize it _was_ a problem."

"Yes, it is. It's a big problem. You're a pansy."

I managed an honest smile and looked at the chilled eggs in front of me. After hesitating for a moment, I began eating. They were tough and overcooked, a testament to Stark's lack of cooking experience, but they were still edible.

"Don't swallow that."

He grinned as I sputtered out a piece of shell. But I was still hungry, so I kept taking bites that varied from passable to disgusting. "What time are we leaving to meet Pepper?"

"We're supposed to be there in five."

"Tony, the airport's twenty minutes away!"

He cringed. "Gee whiz, Doc – I've been here long enough to know that. Please don't embarrass yourself anymore. I was actually gonna suit up and fly her back. She digs it."

"Fair enough… But wait, Tony. If you're flying there in the suit, that means I can't come."

"Of course you can – you just gotta keep up with me."

I understood at once. "No. Definitely not."

Tony didn't offer an alternative. All I could do was stand there as he took off in the Mark VII armor, peacing out and veering away into the skies. I did momentarily consider joining him, but I reasoned against it.

_There's no point in Hulking out for that._

I reclined on the couch and turned the television on. It was fruitless – I didn't find any programs of interest. Minutes ticked by, and I started to regret staying behind. My boredom grew until Jarvis spoke up.

"Doctor, there appears to be a visitor."

I blinked and sat up. "Who is it?"

"I'm afraid it's hard to determine. There's a horde of conflicting records, and I'd rather have Stark threaten to pull my motherboard than decrypt all of it. However, she claims to go by the name of Natasha Romanoff."

_…Romanoff?_

My blood ran cold. She was probably here to speak with me – after all, I couldn't fathom why S.H.I.E.L.D. would be here for Stark. But what did she want? And how did she even know I was here?

"Shall I open the door, Doctor?"

I considered it. Romanoff couldn't threaten me – if worse came to worst, I had the tools to deal with her. Admittedly enough, I also wanted to know why she was here. There was no downside.

Jarvis persisted. "Fallen asleep, have we, Doctor?"

I stood up. "Let her in."


	9. Another Version of the Truth

**IX.  
****Another Version of the Truth**

* * *

Romanoff stepped out of the elevator.

The agent was wearing a wine-colored top and a black skirt, and she carried a set of yellow folders. In other words, she was decidedly plain in appearance. Still, the bold hues of her outfit stood out against Stark Tower's rather pale architecture.

She glanced around the room. Oddly enough, there was surprise in her eyes when she finally saw me. "Fancy seeing you here, Doctor."

I kept my distance. "Yeah. I decided to stick around."

She became unsettled. "This is quite the populated city… But it's your call. I hope you can manage yourself. Anyways, is Stark around?"

"He's out. I assume you're not here for me, then?"

She smiled. "No."

"I'm not on your hit list anymore?"

"Of course not," she said. "You're in the clear, Doctor."

_I'll just give you the benefit of the doubt and hope it sticks._

I almost told Romanoff to make herself comfortable, but then I remembered how much fun it was to mess with her in Calcutta. I slowly paced around her, like a shark circling its prey, trying to get a better look at the documents she was holding. "I'm in the clear… Does that mean you trust me?"

She followed me with her eyes. "S.H.I.E.L.D. trusts you."

"Do they, now?"

"To stay out of trouble."

I chuckled. "Agent Romanoff, I can assure you that won't be a problem – so long as the Hulk is fed and watered. Still… I'd keep that gun in your holster this time. We don't want to risk anything, right?"

She was growing tense. I improved my stance and scrutinized her, relishing the occasion. It was like what happened in Calcutta, but with one difference – Romanoff's fear was pointless, and she didn't even know it.

"Doctor, if Stark isn't here, I might as well–"

"Stay."_ I never get to be the biggest person in the room; just let me do this for a while._ "He'll be back. He's just gone to pick up Miss Potts from the airport."

There was mistrust in her eyes.

"In the meanwhile, you can stay with us."

She said nothing.

Perhaps I was being a little too intimidating. It felt good to aggravate her, but she looked overly upset now. My demeanor softened. "You're still afraid of me."

"Which part of yourself are you referring to?"

_That's a 'yes'… _

Right then, I knew Romanoff needed to see my abilities – she didn't have to fear me at all. I looked away and brought warmth into my head. It flowed behind my eyes, changing them into emerald lights. Then I looked at her again and quickly held up my hand. "Stay calm."

She nearly dropped the files. "…Bruce?"

Her voice was less than a murmur.

"Yeah, it's me."

Romanoff backed away, gripping the folders. "You're in control? How ever did…?"

"Tony. But I can do more than this."

"That's impossible."

"I could always show you."

"No, you don't have to. That's just… Doctor, this is huge."

Romanoff was more shocked than nervous now, but her choice of words bothered me. Maybe I shouldn't have shown her anything. My eyes reverted. "If S.H.I.E.L.D. has any respect, they'll keep their hands off me."

"I don't see why Fury should know. But even if he did, he wouldn't go after you – he's not Ross. And we don't want any more power-hungry maniacs on the street. Blonsky put the nail in that coffin."

"Don't even mention Blonsky."

The agent smiled. "He was certainly a brute." Then she studied me from head to toe. "I still can't believe this, Doctor. It's nice to see your situation's improved."

I didn't know what to say.

"By the way, are you aware that General Ross is dead?"

My foot skimmed across the floor. "Yeah. It was a suicide, right?"

She nodded. "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s trying to find out more about it. Stark used to deal with Ross, so… Well, I'm here to speak with him. Among other things."

"Hold on – he knew Ross?"

"Stark's been making specialized weapons for him."

_I thought he stopped making armaments after returning from Afghanistan. _My hands fell into my pockets. "They were meant for the Hulk, weren't they?"

"Yes. Ross set up an agreement with Stark right after your accident… Actually, their contract was still active right up until the General died. But that's all I know, Doctor. You should talk to Stark."

"It wouldn't matter."

"Why not?"

"It's in the past. And we didn't know each other back then, so whatever Stark's motives were, it doesn't matter now."

Romanoff circled around me and sank into the couch, keeping her papers close. "Doctor, I understand if you won't take my advice, but… Things always come back to bite people. It's best to face the past before moving on."

My expression hardened. "You can't talk, Romanoff. Your past is clean."

"You'd be surprised," she murmured.

"I don't care." I stepped toward her and tried to control my temper, but she had struck a nerve. "We're different people. You never woke from a suicide attempt with a bullet in your hand."

She leaned back. "You're right. I haven't."

It didn't matter. Thanks to her, I was thinking of all my past experiences. My personal space became ten times bigger. "I'm sorry, but you have to leave."

"I'm waiting for Stark."

My eyes turned green. I clenched my fist. "Get out."

"You don't have the right to refuse a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent."

The corner of my lip pulled up. "But he does."

She stood up and held my gaze. "Doctor, if that's really you speaking…"

_It is._

"…Then listen. I know it must be fun, but you'll have to do better than that if you want to scare me now. You've already tooted your horn. So, unless you want me to write you up, I'm staying. All things aside… Don't push people away. You just might do it to the wrong person."

My heart sank. "I already have."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Sadness filled me up at the reminder. And she wasn't going to leave, so I cooled the heat in my blood and sat down on the couch. "You're not sorry. You work for S.H.I.E.L.D. – you see things in black and white."

"Perhaps so, but that doesn't mean I'm blind. S.H.I.E.L.D. has a good sense of what you've gone through, Bruce. We know you were scared. Scared to walk, scared to sneeze, terrified of existing. We've been watching you for eight years."

"That long?"

"Yes. We became affiliated with Ross when he revived the Super Soldier program. He used our funding to commission the gamma chair. But then he became hell-bent on capturing you, so we kept an eye on things."

_ That makes sense_.

"We've been creating interference for him all this time. Remember two years ago, at Culver University? I was there. We actually crossed paths a few times."

Memories were churning in my head. "Never realized it."

"Mind if I have a seat?"

I gave her a sour look. She always preferred to keep her distance from me. "What are you trying to pull?"

She was amused. "Nothing, Doctor. It's a simple question. May I?"

"Yeah, sure."

Romanoff sat down and held the files close. "Typical Stark, late as always. I'm already tired of waiting." Then she cast me a brief glance before looking down at her hands. "Doctor… Is it easier now?"

"Sorry?"

She looked at me again. "When you change."

"Yeah."

"Show me."

I was willing to accommodate, so I repositioned on the couch and crossed my arms. It began with a small change – my pupils constricted as a torrent of light gripped my vision. I didn't look directly at her, but I knew she was deep in observation.

"_Bohze moy_… Have you seen how your eyes look in sunlight?"

I refrained from looking at her. "No."

"They're incredible."

_Sure, if you consider gamma radiation to be incredible._ I faced her again. But perhaps it was a mistake, because I grew interested in her own eyes. They were pale green, shining in multiple tones as the sun feathered over them. A ring of mint circled each pupil–

_Look away, Banner. The hell are you doing?_

I forced myself to break eye contact. For some reason, I became timid and didn't want to show her much more. I brought a very small portion of heat into my face. It slid down my neck, into my arm, and warmed my hand. There was a slight change in pigmentation, nothing else.

She smiled and shook her head.

"What?"

"Imagine if I hadn't found you in Calcutta. None of this would have happened."

I grew solemn. "Romanoff, I never should've gone with S.H.I.E.L.D. in the first place. All I did was make a mess."

"Shame on you."

"Why?"

"You found the Tessaract. Stark didn't have the knowledge to do it on his own. Then you helped us subdue Loki. And Doctor, you didn't make as much of a mess as you think. After the explosion…"

I furrowed my brow.

"You were going to kill me, but you stopped yourself."

_…No. That can't be how it happened._

"You don't remember, even now?"

If she was right, I didn't want to embarrass myself by denying it. I delved through the Hulk's memories until I found what I was looking for. My vision darkened, warping from the modern flair of Stark Tower to the pallid crypt of a helicarrier. I saw steel grates. Sparks. A wounded S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

_ Familiar. Don't hurt them._

Then a sudden impact took me into the wall and seized my chance to back off. But she was safe. The memory slipped away, and the changes in my body vanished.

_You're right_.

Silence took over, and we sat there for a moment. I was tempted to tell her something, but I didn't want to make a fool of myself. My hands became sweaty. At a loss, I decided to offer some hospitality. "Do you want something to drink?"

"That would be kind, Doctor."

I got up and went to the fridge. There was a single pitcher. "Water?"

"Whatever's best."

I took the pitcher and stole a glass from the cupboard. As I poured the water, I sorted through my other memories of the helicarrier – and it was only a matter of time before my suicide admission came around. I recalled my desperation as I told the story to the other Avengers. Through my mind's eye, I inspected their faces.

Fear. Concern. Disgust. Tony hid his emotions like a wraith.

But then I saw Romanoff's face.

She wore the smallest look of sympathy. It was hidden, afraid to show itself in the face of everyone's tension, but I could see it. That was when I realized something.

When I was walking through the rain the other night, I had remembered a single person who stood out in my memories. They were a silent supporter, speaking with nothing but a glance. I was just too blind to see who it was until now.

_ It was her._

I almost dropped the glass of water before she could take it from me.

"You look pale, Doctor."

I just nodded my head. Romanoff used to appear cold, insensitive, but now it seemed like nothing more than a façade. She didn't really see in black and white – it was just her way of distancing herself from people. It reminded me of how I used to live.

But despite my revelations, she still worked for Fury. The man was respectable, but he could lie without mercy – he did it when the Avengers asked him about Phase Two. Since Romanoff was so deep with S.H.I.E.L.D., I had to take everything she said with a grain of salt.

Because I didn't want to get pulled into a trap.

As I stood there contemplating, the sound of a familiar AC/DC track filled the air, and it was accompanied by distant droning.

Stark was back.

* * *

_**Please R&R! Thank you for reading!**_


	10. Brown Eyes, Blue Heart

**X.  
****Brown Eyes, Blue Heart**

* * *

The Mark VII armor zoomed toward us with a whine of mechanical power.

Pepper was in tow. She was well-dressed, but her strawberry blonde hair was chaotic. It must have been a wild flight. I was surprised when Tony dropped her off and veered away without a word, but Pepper didn't seem worried. She fixed her hair and greeted me with a handshake. "Hi, you must be Bruce!"

"Yeah. It's good to meet you, Miss Potts."

Romanoff stepped forward. "Is Stark going to be a while?"

Pepper was pleasantly surprised to see the agent. Her shoes clicked against the tile as she headed for the kitchen. "Nope, not at all! He ordered some Chinese on the way here, and he's gone to pick it up. Men and their last-minute cravings, you know?"

She smiled. "If you don't mind, I need to steal him for a moment when he gets back."

"Of course, Natasha."

Tony was right on cue, and he was holding two big bags of food. He landed on a platform. The floor opened up beneath him, revealing a gantry that could remove the suit from his body. It drifted around him in a circular motion with flashes of yellow and silver.

"I get dibs on the chicken," he said, placing the bags on the counter. However, his mood worsened when he saw Romanoff. "Perfect. I take in a stray, and it turns out he has fleas. I assume you're not here for the food, Agent Romanoff?"

She was stern. "I need to talk to you."

"Is it bad?"

"That depends."

He looked at the yellow files. Then he started walking to the stairs, glancing back to make sure Romanoff was behind him. "Whatever. Pep, make sure Banner doesn't hog all the food, will you?"

"Will do. Don't take too long!"

Stark and his quarry disappeared downstairs. Potts started lifting dishes out of the kitchen cabinets, and I went to help. After it was done, she invited me to sit down as she sorted through the takeout boxes.

"I wonder what that was all about," she told me. "More Avengers stuff?"

"Nah, the team split up a few days ago."

"Well, there's always the chance to get back together, right?" She pushed a box of ginger beef towards me. "So, tell me a bit about yourself. Tony says you're quite the genius!"

"I wouldn't say that."

"Being the leading expert in gamma radiation? I'd say that borders on genius. But that's just me. Maybe there's something even _more_ amazing that qualifies… Like locating a very hard-to-find cube?"

"You win. I appreciate it, Miss Potts."

"Oh, no problem! Savor it."

The rest of the food ended up in front of me. There were dumplings, chicken, and rice, along with some other dishes. It smelled really good, so I caved in and scooped up large portions. Potts took a seat and claimed smaller helpings.

I suddenly felt uncomfortable with taking so much food. "I hope it's okay that I'm here. Just say the word and I'll go."

She laughed. "Oh, Bruce. You can stay as long as you want. You'll always be welcome here – both you and the big guy. Tony approves."

"He told you?"

"Yep. He told me _everything_," Pepper confirmed as she picked up a dumpling. "You're in good hands. Tony hasn't been too difficult, I hope?"

I remembered his drunken demeanor last night, but I chose not to mention it. Chinese food and blood didn't make for an appealing conversation. "Not at all. He's been–"

"_Well, MAKE THEM UNDERSTAND!"_

Tony's voice boomed from downstairs, and Pepper was amused. "Speak of the devil. They must be having one heck of a party down there… Anyways, what are you thinking of doing now? Are you going to settle down?"

"Yeah."

"That's great!"

Pepper was genuinely happy for me. Between the scoops of Chinese food and the sips from her glass, she became pensive. "You have such a wonderful gift, Bruce. I hope you know that."

_Gift?_ _Perhaps…_

"Would you mind showing me a bit of what you can do?"

I smiled in disbelief.

"I'm just curious, is all! No musts."

"You're the second person who asked me that today. It's… Surprising."

Her voice was colored with optimism. "I don't see how you could get a bad response."

I concurred. The Hulk wasn't dangerous anymore, so people seemed more open to it now. Romanoff used to be cautious around me, but earlier, she didn't observe my eyes with wariness – she had been captivated. _There was something about the way she looked at me… And her own eyes were–_

"So… It's a no-show?"

I blinked as my attention snapped back to Pepper. A playfully ominous smirk formed on my face. "I didn't say that."

"Well, you certainly look the part now, Bruce!"

"That's the plan." I looked at the food on my plate and took a bite of chicken. My eyes changed into the Hulk's trademark color. "Well, what about now, Miss Potts?"

She held up her hand. "Okay. That is totally awesome."

Feeling a little self-conscious again, I normalized my eyes. My fork played soccer with a piece of ginger beef. "Tony used to call it a terrible privilege, but I guess it's not so terrible anymore."

"Like his arc reactor?"

I looked up at her. "Yeah."

It wasn't long before the stairs came alive with the sound of footsteps. Tony appeared first, but he looked disheveled. His face was pale and his forehead was gleaming with sweat. Perhaps he just had a panic attack.

Pepper stood up. "Sweetie, sit down. You don't look well."

He ignored her and turned to Romanoff. "What was the point of that? I was already in hot water; was it necessary to go and dunk me? I have enough things to deal with."

Romanoff was weary. "You're going to be fine, Stark."

He wiped the sheen from his forehead. "You have five minutes to show yourself out."

Then he retreated back to his workshop. Pepper tried to stop him, but it was fruitless, and they both vanished down the stairs. Worried by Tony's behavior, I turned to Romanoff. "Care to explain?"

"He has a lot on his mind."

"Would it really hurt to be more specific?"

"It's sensitive information. Stark wants to keep it confidential. I'm sorry."

_Since when does Tony ever keep secrets? He's a classic narcissist._

But Romanoff was serious. It was in her eyes and body language, right down to the way she held my gaze. Her expression was potent. I grew warm. The sensation began in my head and radiated outwards.

Romanoff let out a breath. "_Chto eto…?_"

"Hm?"

Upon hearing my confusion, she looked flattered – much to my surprise. "Nice eyes."

There was only one explanation. _Shit!_

My eyes had changed on me. Thoroughly embarrassed, I reverted as quickly as possible. However, I still felt a trace of heat when I was back to normal – and it wasn't from the Hulk. _No… I can't possibly be thinking of her like this. She must be trying to–_

"Doctor?"

I scrambled to find words. "Sorry, Romanoff. That was… My mind must be elsewhere."

"Clearly."

I stopped for a moment and tried to say something else, but no cigar. I put my hands together and looked around the room, noting the cool tones of the floor and the splashes of color from a painting.

"Bruce."

My focus returned to Romanoff. She was using my given name for no particular reason, and it made me wonder what she was trying to pull. My suspicions finally got the better of me. "I do have a title, you know."

She frowned. "What's a title to you?"

"Not much in the grand scheme of things. But tell me – what's all this about?"

"Define 'this'."

I was afraid to explain.

Romanoff didn't say anything at first. She appeared to think for a moment, and then a smile grew on her face. "Do you have the hots for me, Doctor?"

My temperature peaked again. "No."

She crossed her arms. "It's okay–"

"Don't feed me that. I know what you're doing."

She gawked, but the reaction didn't last. She looked away and walked over to the coffee table, placing the files down with a sigh. Her face was blank. "You actually like me…"

"_Oh_, no," I countered. "That's part of the trick, and I'm not falling for it."

Her fingers interlocked with one another. "Doctor… Why are you so afraid to look inside yourself? Your own feelings weren't put there by someone else."

"Why do you care?"

She studied my eyes. "I don't know how else to say this, Bruce… But you've been on my mind since we met in Calcutta. Whatever you might have seen today…" Then she broke eye contact with me.

_…Romanoff._

My head was swimming. The glances, the comments, and everything else was real. If she truly had feelings for me, then we were on the same page, but I couldn't bring myself to believe it. "What could you possibly see in me, Romanoff? I've killed people. You're looking at a monster."

"And so are you."

I stopped.

"Bruce, you remind me of myself… It's gotten to me. And I know you don't think you're a monster. Even if you did – which you shouldn't – you clearly believe in second chances."

_This is actually happening._ "Second chances are for the foolish, Romanoff."

Her gaze hardened. She took a step toward me. "Is that what you really think, Doctor? Or is it a cheap shot at distancing yourself? I know you believe in such things. You haven't gone back to the Arctic."

_…You're right. _"You're acting like I'm free of the Hulk."

She glared at me. "Aren't you? Stop thinking of reasons to push me away, Doctor."

_That's it._ I couldn't stand how she was peeling me apart. I rushed forward and pinned her against the wall, my arm convulsing with green blood. The change was messy, spilling into my shoulder and torso, but it didn't matter. I drew closer until we were almost touching. "I could kill you," I breathed.

She nodded. "And it would be all your doing."

Then and there, Natasha got me.

Her words were tough, but they were true. There was absolutely no reason to push her away – my excuses were poor and twisted. Not only this, but Romanoff's eyes were filled with consolation. Understanding. Nobody but Elizabeth had ever looked at me like that. I put my head down. "I'm sorry."

She placed her hand on my shoulder. "Don't be."

I looked up again. We locked gazes, and I discovered that we both shared the same eye color. Mine were coated with bright heat, and hers were pale and more delicate – but they were fervent. My heart began to pound faster. "This is real."

She wrapped her arms around me and leaned into my chest.

I growled in reaction, spurred by fear, but then I realized something – I wanted her. And I wanted the way she made me feel. Despite the changes in my arm, she didn't shy away from it, and it made me feel like a human being. It felt nice. I returned the gesture.

"Ow," she murmured.

My grip was too strong. I let go and stepped away. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

Before I could stop myself, more words came tumbling out. "I need to apologize for my conduct earlier… I've been stubborn. And S.H.I.E.L.D. tried to help with Ross all this time, so they can't be that bad."

She smiled. "Come with me for a few days and find out."

I cooled my blood. Seeing them in a more neutral time was tempting. "Sure."

Then I heard someone coming up the stairs, and I turned around to find Pepper. She looked troubled, so her conversation with Tony probably didn't go over well. I composed myself and walked over to her. "What happened?"

Pepper sighed. "The guy's a ninja at keeping secrets."

There was no point in bothering him. He needed his solitude. "He'll be fine."

Romanoff stepped past me and picked up her files from the table, then she headed for the exit. Before leaving, she looked back at me. "Stark has my number. Give me a call later."

I tried to fight a smile. "We'll talk soon."

Then she was gone, leaving me with my thoughts. I thought about what just happened between us, and I tried to think about why I'd been so cold at first.

Maybe it was because of what happened to Elizabeth.

But whatever the reason, control over the Hulk was only the first step to recovery. I still had things to work on. I needed to escape my darkest outlook, one that claimed nobody would ever want me.

Because Romanoff proved it wrong.

I exchanged a glance with Pepper. After we split, I went to the fridge and prepared some leftovers for Tony. I headed downstairs with the meal. If he wouldn't talk, he might as well enjoy dinner.


	11. Hpnotiq and Hennessy

**XI.  
Hpnotiq and Hennessy**

* * *

I lobbed another virtual sphere at the target.

_Seventy-five._

Finally pleased with the score, I took a sip from the glass in my hand. It was a smooth blend that tasted of whisky and bitters. I usually had it on the rocks, but this time, I was taking it straight. Watery drinks sucked. They didn't help.

But there was nothing left in the glass now.

The open fridge offered no words of wisdom, just another drink. Some tiny part of me tried to resist. _Nope. I don't need it. It's not healthy, and there's no point in–_

My debate stopped. I did need it.

Banner preached about the dangers of drinking last night, but he didn't understand my situation. So what if it wasn't the best thing for my body? The arc reactor had already screwed me up, so staying pure and merry was kind of a lost cause.

My legs carried me to the cooler and I pulled out the nearest bottle of scotch. It was the lame forty-dollar bottle, but at this point, my pickiness was gone. I took a swig. My throat burned, but it was easy to ignore. Shrugging off the effects, I slumped back into my chair.

Soon enough, my attention traveled to the desk and came to rest on a helmet.

It was black and brimming with gold plating. The innards were laced with retro reflective panels. In other words, it could bend light and turn invisible, but that meant nothing. This helmet wasn't something to celebrate. This was the last piece of Nightclub.

The Mark VIII.

I couldn't destroy the helmet, let alone touch it, but I couldn't go crawling to Banner or Pepper like a baby – not unless I wanted to lose their respect. And while it was hard to be in the room with this helmet, where else could I go for a time-out? So, now it sat there, taunting me with visions I _really_ didn't want to see.

As the memories came back, I took a sip of scotch. The helmet just grinned at me.

Jarvis piped in. "Sir, may I suggest–"

"Mute."

« • »

"Tony, can you let me in?"

I stood at the glass wall that separated his workshop from the stairs. Everything was silent. The lights were dimmed, casting grey shadows over the tile and metal. Tony was sitting at his desk with an open bottle of alcohol in his hand. It gleamed with traces of honey and gold.

"I have food, Tony."

He didn't even glance at me. In response, I looked down at the plate of food in my hand. The meat and rice was tantalizing, but the steam was starting to dissipate. "Come on," I told him. "Don't make me tear the door down."

"You? Tear down the door? Please, Doc."

My impatience was growing. If he wanted to beat around the bush, he deserved what was coming to him. "Stark, I'm not here to talk about Romanoff. I'm here because you left us upstairs with the food that _you_ wanted. Grow up."

The billionaire was shocked. "_Somebody_ woke up on the wrong side of the continent."

"Am I being unreasonable?"

"Yeah."

"Open the goddamn door."

He groaned. "You heard him, Jarvis."

The door opened, so I passed through it and walked up to Stark. His face was a medley of guilt and upset, but I didn't care. He needed to be taken down a peg or two. I ignored the warm currents of alcohol in the air and put his meal on the desk. "This had better be enough."

"Yep."

"That's all." Then I turned around and set my course for the stairs.

"Hold on a minute, Banner."

I looked back at him.

He swished the flask of alcohol. "What's up with you?"

"What are you talking about?"

The billionaire was unnerved. "Well, for starters, you look like you're gonna rip my head off. Is that significant? Because I think that's pretty significant."

I was surprised to learn that my body did seem extremely tense. I took a breath to calm myself. Concurrently, I noticed a black helmet that was sitting on the desk. The faceplate was gold in color. "You're very close-mouthed, Tony. That's reason enough."

"Touché."

My curiosity over the helmet was tremendous. I picked it up and turned it around in my hand. Tony suddenly grew tense, though. I looked to him and furrowed my brow.

"What's with the stink eye, Doc?"

"You'd rather me put the helmet down?"

He took a sip of alcohol and nodded. "Yep."

I obeyed.

Tony got up and crept over to the fridge to trade in his liquor. "You really want to know what's happening? Will you stop bugging me if I tell you?"

My hands hid in my pockets. "Yeah."

With a new bottle in hand – an amber one that read _Hennessy _– he sat back down in the chair and kicked his feet up onto the desk. He popped the bottle open with a corkscrew. "I've been redlined by the FBI."

I grew alarmed. "What?"

He cringed. "Yeah, yeah… It's bad. But S.H.I.E.L.D. made a deal with them, so don't have a conniption. Thing is, I'm gonna need a whole lot of time to–"

"Why were you flagged, Tony?"

He gripped the armrest of his chair. "Did I say you could interrupt me?"

"Stop deflecting."

"Fine, be that way. It's… About the nuke. You know, the whole 'let it go through the wormhole' thing? Apparently it's a felony to mess with government operations, _including_ ones that could blow up a city for nothing."

I was speechless.

"Anyways, part of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s deal with the FBI involved my company." His eyes filled with darkness. "I can't sell stuff to the government anymore – ergo, I'm gonna lose a _big _chunk of my profits. I'm running a company whose main benefactor is the people who tried to frame me."

I ran a hand through my hair. I didn't understand why he couldn't sell weapons to them anymore – it didn't seem to fit – but that was beside the point. "That's what Romanoff came to tell you?"

"More or less."

I understood. Stark, however, was still uneasy. He took a swig of liquor and my concern grew. "Don't drink anymore. You'll be fine. You're lucky this turned out so well."

"You call this 'well'?"

"Compared to what could've happened, yeah. In the end, you did the right thing–"

"See?" he insisted. "That's the problem – I do the right thing, but people keep jabbing their sticks at me." He manipulated the bottle in his hand, and the contents swayed accordingly.

"Things could've been worse. Try being on the run for eight years."

He rolled his eyes. "You might have a point there." Then he pulled his plate of food closer and picked up the fork, but he put it down after taking a bite of chicken. "Hey, don't just stand there looking silly. You want a drink? I've got lots of drinks."

"I'm not–"

"What? Don't tell me you're scared of a little whiskey."

"I'm not that fond of drinking, is all."

He dropped his shoulders. After a moment, he got up and went to the fridge. "You'll change your mind. Just wait until I show you this – it's a big hit at the bars now."

_All right._

Still holding the amber flask, Stark pulled out a second bottle from the fridge. It was bright blue and reminded me of tropical fruit. "Hpnotiq," he said. "It was supposed to be a gift for Pepper, but don't be fooled – she's _really_ picky."

I watched as he opened the Hpnotiq and got a small tumbler from a nearby cabinet. He proceeded to pour the two drinks, simultaneously, into the sparkling glass. As they united, a bright lime color settled into the container. I pealed with embarrassment. "Nice."

He held it out to me. "Try this."

_Why not?_

I took the concoction and held it closer. It had a refreshing aroma, so I guzzled it down without a second thought, but it was too much. I scrunched my eyes together, and my mouth seemed to yawn and shudder from the burst of sharp flavor. "That's strong."

He chuckled. "You're not supposed to just hork it down like that, Doc."

"Clearly." I licked my lips. "You can have your glass back."

Tony placed the glass on the counter and the drinks back in the refrigerator. I was glad that he didn't contemplate a drink of his own. "Tony, your dinner's getting cold."

"I'm not hungry."

I stifled a laugh. _After all this…_ "Okay. You should go see Pepper. She's concerned about what happened with Romanoff."

"Jealousy?"

"Nah."

He nodded. "Good."

Tony picked up his plate and headed for the stairs. I followed, wondering what he would tell Pepper, but it didn't bother me for long. He knew what he was doing – he always did. Still, he needed some time alone to talk with her. "I think I'll go for a walk."

"Fun stuff."

Pepper was standing at the top of the stairs with a look of apprehension. I didn't know what to say, so I turned to Stark. It was getting late, so it was going to be cool outside. "Mind if I borrow a jacket?"

He rolled his eyes. "What kind of a question is that? Of course. On that note… Not that you care or anything, but…"

"What?"

"You should go out and find a girlfriend. Just an idea."

_That might not even be necessary anymore._

Tony guided Pepper out to the landing. She was bombarding him with anxious questions, but I didn't care to eavesdrop. I got to the closet and opened it, browsing through the garments. The selection rivaled that of a shopping mall. After some deliberation, I chose a brown leather jacket, mainly for the freshly-bought smell it carried, and slipped it on.

It fit perfectly.

I looked through the glass and saw Stark giving me a thumbs-up. Pepper corrected his attention with a peeved movement of her hand, so I looked away and started closing the closet door. However, a rack of shoes in the lower corner caught my eye. There was a pair of denim cargo pants on top of it. I remembered Tony's comment about a 'science project'.

I picked the jeans up. There was a row of tiny red lights along the outseam of each leg, and they were glowing – very faintly – through the fabric. Perhaps it was some kind of nanotechnology. Then I saw the _Stark Industries_ motif that traveled down part of the left leg, pale against the denim.

_Saw that coming._

They were rather interesting as a whole, so I decided to try them on. I took a quick trip to the bathroom. Overall, they fit well – they weren't too tight or loose. They didn't appear as tacky as I expected, and they matched the rest of my apparel.

_It must've taken a while to get these right._

Tony clearly thought I was going to be changing on a regular basis. I wasn't planning to, though, because the main benefit of his cure wasn't the control itself – it was the peace of mind it brought. Perhaps I'd use the Hulk as a judicial icon down the road, but not now.

Trying to humor Tony's earlier suggestion, I grabbed a phone. I missed the chance to ask him for Romanoff's number, so I flipped through my mental phonebook to see if there was anyone else. It was a pathetically short list.

Then I remembered Selvig.

We were once colleagues with ambitions in our respective fields. We had spoken after the invasion ended, but we didn't get the chance to say anything important. He didn't even know about my connection to the Hulk. All things considered, he was probably still in Manhattan. Unfortunately, I didn't know his number.

_Darn._

I was out of luck.

_…Wait._ _Maybe I do know Selvig's number._

My mind sharpened and my eyes blazed up into green fire. This action stemmed from the fact that the Hulk's memories became clearer when the radiation ran through me – and perhaps my human ones would, too. They did. As a result, I rescued the memory of a business card from my head.

_Erik Selvig  
__Theoretical Astrophysics  
Cell: (540) 555-4954_

The recollection was almost eight years old. I didn't know if the number would be active, but Erik hated change – right down to the glasses he wore – so there was still a chance. After keying the combination, I hit the 'dial' button and waited for an answer.

* * *

_**I'm so excited to write the next chapter... The plot is starting to thicken! *u* Leave a**** review and let me know how the story's coming along!**_


	12. Bad Blood

**XII.  
Bad Blood**

* * *

I stood there with the phone against my ear. I really hoped Selvig would answer, because this way, I wouldn't have to make all my connections from scratch – and I could reclaim a part of my old life. But the phone just kept ringing, and my hope began to waver. The green disappeared from my eyes. I kept listening to the dial tone.

Then somebody picked up. They spoke before I could even react. "Hi, who is this?"

I swallowed. "Doctor Selvig?"

"Speaking. And you are…?"

My conjecture was correct. "Doctor Banner."

The voice jammed up in surprise. "Bruce? Is that really you?"

"It is, Erik."

"We… Have quite a bit to catch up on, it seems."

I was beaming. "Yeah. Are you busy? I was just calling to see if you wanted to meet up. I'm about to head out." Then I remembered that he might have left the area by now. "If you're not far, that is."

"Where are you?"

"Stark Tower."

"That's perfect." He was clearly speaking through enthusiasm. "You know, I just passed by there not too long ago. Is five minutes from now too soon?"

"Not at all. I'll meet you at the doors in five."

« • »

"That's…" He paused to find his words. "Quite a decade you've had, there."

"Not a decade, but yeah. Pretty close."

We journeyed through the city, sharing a walk that brought us past the Chrysler building. The skies and streets grew darker as time went on, but we didn't check the clock at all.

"So," he continued, "the creature that was kicking the alien scum halfway to hell… That was really you?"

"Bingo."

"I suppose that explains the fancy getup, then."

"What, these? They're only high-tech pants – they're not _that_ fancy."

We engaged in our familiar battles of humor, but we kept certain comments to ourselves when strangers walked by us. Amidst our banter, the sun lowered itself and came to rest along the horizon with streaks of gold cotton. Like the skies, our discussion also changed as we walked. It became more contemplative. Selvig brought up a topic that was particularly interesting to me. "Wait, you and Barton were turned by Loki?"

"Yeah. Loki thought he could rule the world, but he needed us to get things done for him. The whole servitude thing wasn't the best experience of my life, let me tell you. Mind control and all…"

"It's definitely no walk in the park."

The atmosphere was blithe, but it was sentimental as well – we both knew what it felt like to become something else. Still, we didn't have to worry about losing our minds anymore, because the liable complications had been solved in recent days.

It became cool outside. I noticed that Erik was shivering, so I offered him Tony's jacket. It took some coercing, but then he graciously accepted it.

We stopped near a quiet intersection and crossed the street.

Selvig spoke again. "I still can't believe what you've told me. I never thought something like that was possible. Well, I thought the same thing about Thor when he first landed here, but it's all so incredible."

"Yeah. It's just one of those things, I guess."

He shrugged. "Do you have anywhere to be? If not, I was thinking we could stop by the pub and revel some more."

"Sure." _Nothing could go wrong now._

"Alrighty then," he said. "I think there's a good place just around the corner. It's a restaurant, too, if you're up for some wings. How about it?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

"Do you drink much?"

"Actually… Today, I had my first drink in eight years."

"That must've been thrilling," the scientist hooted. "That reminds me – you should've seen me after I went drinking with Thor… I couldn't even tell which way was up. Friendly word of advice, Bruce – don't go drinking with him."

I chuckled. "So, where are you, nowadays?"

"Well, I stayed with S.H.I.E.L.D. for a while to help out with the Tessaract… And my, my; that thing was quite a handful! I'm going to stay with them for a while, but I live down in New Mexico."

"Wife? Family?"

"A mentee, actually – Jane Foster. I'm without kids and a spouse. I couldn't be bothered to go looking for someone right now. How about you?"

"There might be someone," I said. "And she knows what I've been through."

"Well, a woman in your life could do you some good! Anyways, the bar's just up ahead. Let's go inside before you freeze to death."

We stepped inside the pub. Our surroundings changed from an open cityscape to a warm and noisy gathering place. People looked at us when we entered, and I hated the scrutiny. We stood there as my colleague scanned the interior, trying to decide on a table, but I was uncomfortable. "Erik… I need to sit down."

"Oh, sorry about that, Bruce. Pick a spot."

I chose a table near the front of the restaurant. We sat down and decided on a quartet of rum and coke. The first pair was downed quickly, but we waited on the second pair. Soon after the first drink, though, I noticed that someone at a nearby table was looking over his shoulder at me. My guard shot up.

"You okay there?"

I faced Selvig. "Yeah. I'm just not used to places like this."

"Son, I don't blame you one bit. Bars can be fucked-up places… But that's why _I'm_ here! Talk to me! And the only person you gotta worry about is yourself, so don't let the little things get you down."

"I'll try."

"Good," he finished, downing his second shot. "But make sure it stays that way. Don't let your priorities get all wooly and lose sight of what's best for yourself."

I nodded. "How's the jacket working out?"

"It's comfy. I just might keep it."

I made a face.

"Oh, all right, then. I'll settle for a lease."

Selvig began to look at something behind me. Before I could react, a heavy hand fell onto my shoulder and gave it a rough jerk. I turned around. There was a man standing behind me, and he looked like the kind of person who could knock out teeth if he was provoked – he was young, but he sported a crew cut, and his outfit was reminiscent of something from a biker gang.

_Play it calm. _"I'm sorry, is there a problem?"

"Yeah, there's a problem." The stranger's voice was deep and uncompromising. "I take it you're new around here. Just so you know, this table belongs to me and my pals. And you're dirtying it up."

_Great… A bar confrontation. Why do things like this always happen to me?_

I looked at Selvig and motioned for him to get up. "We'll leave," I told the stranger, unaffected by his conduct. But I couldn't move, because his hand slammed onto the table and blocked my exit. Erik was free to go, but he simply stood there and didn't leave me.

"You were saying?" the man sneered.

At first, I was going to negotiate with him, but then I was struck by confidence. It came out of nowhere. Still, perhaps it was warranted – the aggressor was alone, and he couldn't hurt me. My gaze hardened. "We didn't know about the table. I'd expect you to show some courtesy about it. You're not the biggest person in the room."

He gave an ugly smile. "Oh, are you sassing me, now?"

_…Okay, don't insult him again. You don't want to rile him up._

But to my dismay, Selvig piped up. "Look, we're giving you the table. Let him go."

The stranger looked at my colleague. "Don't tell me what to do, old timer. I'd give you ten seconds – _tops_ – before you end up drooling on the floor."

I clenched my jaw. "Don't threaten him."

The man laughed. "So what if I do?" Then he took himself away from me and stepped toward Selvig, going for his arm. Selvig couldn't do anything to keep him away, so after a brief fight, his arm became trapped in the man's grasp.

I stood up. He couldn't hurt me, but Selvig was another story. "You're really pushing my buttons. And you _really_ wouldn't like me when I'm angry. Don't abuse whatever power you think you have."

"Oh, look," he mocked. "We have a tough guy."

…_You're just like Ross. Cold, deluded, and power-hungry. _"Look in the mirror."

"Speak again and you'll lose your face." Then he turned to Selvig. "As for you… Let's make one thing perfectly clear – you won't ever set foot in this place again." He curled his fist in preparation to slug him.

That was something I just wouldn't stand for.

Selvig couldn't be victimized by someone like this. I had the power to stop it, and now was my chance. An icy cold rage gripped me and whispered, _move._

I launched myself forward and pulled the man away from Selvig. He cried in outrage and threw a punch at me, but it stopped against my open palm. It hurt for a moment, but my hand quickly began to pulse with green blood. The change shot up my arm. I pushed my weight forward and drove him away from Selvig, ignoring his surprised cry and the popping of bones.

"Let go of me, you freak!"

I just squeezed his hand even harder. Past the pounding in my head, I could hear people gasping. It didn't matter – this man was too volatile to let off the hook. He had probably hurt numerous people in the past, with no care for his actions.

_Just like Ross._

I twisted his arm and relished his outcry.

Then I threw him to the floor. He lost his bravado and tried scrambling to the exit, but I blocked his escape. My vocal cords changed to create a deeper brand of voice. "Now I'm pissed."

"Stop," he said, wincing as he brought his injured hand to his chest. "You wouldn't hurt me… Don't abuse power, right?"

I stepped forward and grabbed him by the collar. "You're one to talk."

"Bruce," Selvig said, "I think it's time to hightail it out of here."

I looked back at him. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm okay."

The man grasped for my hand and tried to loosen its grip. In response, I faced him again and snarled. The sound was dark – animalistic – and it stopped him in his tracks. His eyes were filled with fear and regret, and it was gratifying to see this. I had accomplished my goal. _Maybe he'll think twice about causing problems around here._

I started to let him go.

Then, however, he gave one last remark:

"Weak bastard. You wouldn't have done anything."

I was wrong. He still didn't get the message. Something inside of me wanted to rip him apart, teach him a lesson once and for all, and I was only barely repressing it. This man was arrogant and power-hungry, and despite my threats, he was belligerent as ever._ He clearly hasn't learned enough yet…_

_And I can't leave him like this. He'll just cause more problems._

_ …Maybe it's best to rip him apart._

I pulled him closer until I could feel his breath on my face. His eyes widened in pure terror, and it was the most fulfilling spectacle, but this was only the beginning of my objective. He began to struggle again. But I just scowled and told him, "no more trouble."

I drew my fist back in preparation to strike.

"Bruce," shouted Erik, "_don't hurt him!_"

* * *

_**Happy Canada Day (or Independence Day, if you live in the States)! I hope you're having a great week! :D A**__**s always, please review - I really appreciate your feedback!**_


	13. Secret

**XIII.  
Secret**

* * *

I growled at Selvig. "He needs to learn–"

"No, he doesn't! And since when have you ever wanted to hurt someone?"

_Since now! …Wait._

I looked at the man in my grasp and measured his fear. He was petrified. His eyes were wide, his breathing was shallow, and it was all my doing. But Selvig was right – I didn't really want to hurt him. My emotions had just spun out of control.

Transforming had worsened my temper once before – namely, when I made the complete change at Stark Tower. But this time, even though the Hulk only took precedence over my right arm, my emotions were far more venomous. I took a breath and released the man, and he fell to the floor. His hand was like ground beef.

_Oh, god…_

I couldn't stand to be here anymore. I left the building and took refuge in an alley. My mind was racing with questions, and I was too scared to revert my arm. I was so troubled that I didn't hear Selvig at first.

"Bruce? You okay?"

I looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Erik. I've never been in a situation like that, where things are…"

"Touch-and-go?"

"Yeah. It was new territory for me."

"Well then, that must have been quite the experience!"

I sighed. "This isn't a good thing. I lost control of my temper."

To my amazement, he shrugged and put his hand on my shoulder. "Look, Bruce – that fellow needed a kick in the pants. And if you ask me, you shouldn't worry about what happened. You've never been in a tight spot with your powers before, so you didn't know what to expect."

I gave him a meager smile. "That's true. Thanks, Erik."

"Aw, don't get sappy. Let's see that arm of yours."

I raised my arm. He carefully pulled it closer and shook his head in astonishment. His mind was probably full of theories and questions. "This is superb, Bruce. You feeling homicidal by any chance? Angry?"

"No."

"See? You're fine now – it was just the mess you threw yourself into. And now that you're aware of what can happen, control it in the future." He returned my arm. "In the meanwhile, just work on getting your life back together. The rest will follow."

_…That's right. I need to find a job and my own home… I can't stay at Stark Tower forever._

My vision dulled as the gamma radiation left my blood. I discovered that my shirt wasn't torn, and this cheered me up even more. Selvig offered my jacket to me, but I declined – he needed it more than I did. "I'll manage on the way back."

"You sure? That's an awfully thin shirt you have on."

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

We headed back to the Tower. Selvig returned my jacket once we arrived, and then we split. My mind was swimming, though, so I decided to walk over to a nearby park. The weather was cool, sinking through my jacket and bringing a film of goosebumps over my skin. Every once in a while, I would look up at the sky. The moon was social for the most part, but sometimes it was hidden by a thick string of clouds.

I passed through a gate. It was the entrance to a garden, and soon enough, I came across a flagstone path that was lined with flowers. At the end of this path, there was a ring of tan rocks that held a mass of chrysanthemums. They were blue and white in color, tasting the moonlight and taming the stones beneath my feet.

I walked up to the flowers and marveled at them.

Concurrently, I thought about my options for the future. It would be best to stay in Manhattan, since Tony and Pepper had a residence here. They were my friends – trustworthy, and a great source of support.

My gaze continued to drift over the flowers, but it wasn't long before I saw a speck of yellow. There was a dandelion growing among them. It was a beautiful plant in its own right, but if it was allowed to decay, it was capable of ruining the entire garden. I pulled the weed out, but then I realized there were more.

I couldn't remove them all, so I left them there. And it was time to head back now.

Eventually, I arrived at Stark Tower. Jarvis answered the buzzer and opened the door for me. When I finally got to the upper floor, I glanced around. Pepper was tending to a kettle that was whistling on the counter. She was in a good mood, so Tony must have eased her concerns. "Hi, Bruce! Have a good time out there? Not too strange, I hope?"

"Yeah. It was nice."

"That's good! Tony's out on the pad, if you want to go scare him or something."

I tried to look through the massive window, but Tony was hidden by the reflections in the glass. Consequently, I didn't know how to approach him. "I think I'll warm up in here first."

"All right. I just put some water on for tea. Would you like some?"

"Sure."

She poured the boiling water into mugs and mixed in some fine green powder. "So, what's on the agenda for tomorrow?"

"I'll probably look for my own place, and a job."

"Well then, if you're looking for something in your particular field, you should ask Tony for a job! I know he'd be more than happy to find one for you."

"As long as it doesn't involve weapons. With all due respect."

"I understand, Bruce. You'll be happy to know that we haven't made any weapons since last year. We're making more practical things now. But Tony can't work with the government anymore, so he's branching out to law enforcement. He's sending out blueprints for a 'short-term catalepsy' device tomorrow."

_That sounds good._

But when I thought about Pepper's response some more, it didn't seem to make sense. She said that Tony stopped making weapons a year ago, but what about his weapons contract with Ross? It was active right up until the Chitauri invasion.

_ Is she trying to cover it up?_

_…No._

Pepper wouldn't lie. She probably didn't know about the contract. This concerned me, because despite being the CEO of Tony's company, she held the credence that he was done making weapons. Tony must have been hiding the contract from her. But it wasn't in my place to bring it up – it would only cause problems.

She handed me a mug, and I took a sip. The tea was sweet and grassy in flavor. "This is great."

"I'm glad you like it," she said. "It's called 'Matcha'. I've been trying to persuade Tony to try some, but he won't touch it – he likes his Blue Mountain coffee." She chuckled and drank some of her own tea.

"I'm a coffee person, too. I got into it a couple years back."

"Oh, really? I never would have guessed that – you strike me as someone who doesn't like caffeine. I guess you learn something new every day." There was a thoughtful pause, then she yawned. "Well, I think I'm done for the night. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yup. Good night," I said.

Pepper walked away. I sat down and finished my tea, then I opened the glass door and stepped into the cool midnight air. Tony was sitting on a bench. There was a blue housecoat on his shoulders and a phone in his hand. When I got closer, he waved the phone in front of me. "Agent Redhead called. She was asking for you."

_Dammit… I was supposed to–_

"What's the matter, big guy? Lost the dub in your step?"

I couldn't tell him about my potential relationship with Romanoff. "She wanted me to follow up on some things from the invasion, but it totally slipped my mind. Anyways, how are you doing?"

"Can't complain. Although, I do need to ask you something."

My curiosity had been piqued. "What?"

"Which jacket is that?"

He took the coat and inspected it like he was looking for rips or holes. "Well, I'm glad you managed to keep it in one piece… But _jeeze_, does it smell like booze. What did you do, Banner? Go swimming in rum?"

"Don't ask."

"Too bad. I'm asking, and you're answering. Park it."

I sat down beside him. "You remember Selvig?"

"Who-wig?"

"The astrophysicist. You met him a few days ago. Anyways, I called him up and we went to the bar. Things were fine at first, but then… Something came up, and it was…"

He pursed his lip. "You look pale. Should I be worried?"

"Maybe."

"Go on, then."

"Tony, I'm not sure you want to hear–"

"Enough with the Chinese water torture. Spill."

_Just tell him, Banner._ "We got into a fight with someone. He was going to hurt Selvig, and…"

Tony grinned. "Hulk to the rescue?"

"Not exactly. Selvig was a friend, and I had to protect him, so I changed a bit and pushed the aggressor away… But before I knew it, my anger was completely out of control. I almost knocked him out."

"You're fine now, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not seeing the problem, then. Your biochemistry goes manic when you Hulk out, so how did you expect to behave in a pinch like that? It was your first time, too. Curb your expectations."

"That's exactly what Selvig told me earlier. I guess I just need more experience."

Tony leaned back against the bench. "Or you could skip all the worrying and just use a shock collar."

_Very funny. _I stood up and walked to the edge of the terrace, looking out across the cityscape. The indigo skies were flecked with golden lights. "Controlling the Hulk is more complicated than I thought. You can't argue with that. When I'm changed, my emotions are way more receptive to my thoughts."

"Okay… So what were you thinking about when you popped?"

I looked back at Tony. "How the man reminded me of General Ross."

"Really?"

I nodded. "He was fighting with us over a table, and he was so arrogant about it. I told him to stop, but he just got nastier. It was like he couldn't admit to being in the wrong. He was all bravado."

Tony grew quiet. "A coward, hiding in fear of backlash."

"Yeah. Just like Ross."

He didn't respond. I started thinking about my inexperience problem again. It was a tricky one to solve – I couldn't go looking for fights, but I couldn't sit around and do nothing. I crossed my arms and suppressed a chill. My eyes traveled over the cityscape. "Tony, I need your help."

"With…?"

"How do you think I should fix the whole control thing?"

I heard him rise to his feet. "Get into more funky situations."

"How am I supposed to do that without hurting people? It's too dangerous." I peered over the edge of the landing and watched the cars below us. They were like ants. "But it seems like I only have two options – either get brave, or–"

"Get creative."

Tony was right behind me. But I didn't have time to react, because in that moment, he rammed into my back. The impact was sudden, shocking, and I lost my balance. Then he gave one final push.

It caused me to slip right off the landing.


	14. The Rift

******XIV.  
****The Rift**

* * *

_Shit!_

I poured a stream of heat into my arm. The change felt rather uncomfortable this time, but it didn't matter. I grabbed onto the side of the building and held onto it. Grit fell into my eyes while I tried to pull myself up toward the landing. "_Tony Stark!_"

He peered over the side and shrugged.

I pulled myself up some more. I was almost there, but then I lost my footing. I gasped and stretched out with my changed arm, clutching the first thing that I saw – Tony's arc reactor. It glowed under his shirt with a blue light.

"Hey! Ouch! Lay off!"

Under the weight of my grasp, the reactor was torn right out of its socket. It was hanging by a mere two wires, and this alarmed me, so I released it and jammed more power into my arm. It was enough to get me to safety. I fell over and gritted my teeth. "God dammit, Stark. Are you out of your mind?"

"Not really – you said you needed experience, right?" Then he looked down at his arc reactor. It was hanging from his chest in a lifeless fashion, so he flipped his shirt up and locked the device back in place. "By the way, you're not going for my neck, and _you_ were in danger that time. That's gotta be worse than watching your pal get beaten up."

My body was tense. But this time, it was much easier to calm down. I brushed flecks of concrete out of my hair. "Maybe. But did it cross your mind that you could've gotten hurt by doing that?"

"Nope."

I sighed. "Well then, you're paying for the damage I just caused."

"Say what?"

"I think there's a hole in the landing."

He groaned and helped me up. "Whatever, Tarzan."

I reverted my arm as we went back inside the building. Tony plopped down on the couch with a tired yawn, and I thought about my latest transformation. "You were right, Tony. It just took practice."

"Is that really a surprise?"

"Guess not."

The billionaire sank into a sleeping position.

"Are you going to sleep right here?"

"Heck no. But you're not either, Doc. You gotta learn to sleep in an actual bed again." He repositioned himself and let out another yawn. "It sure beats killing your neck on the couch. There's a guest room on your right."

_Will do._ I left him there and picked up the phone outside, then I retreated to the guest room. It was more than livable – there was a large bed, a horizontal dresser, and a panoramic mirror that was stretched across one wall. The creams and dark tones complimented each other well. I closed the door and sat down on the bed, then I dialed the most recent number on the phone.

The voice on the other line was soft. "Hello?"

I couldn't help but smile. "Is this Natasha Romanoff?"

"Hey. Nice hearing from you, Bruce. Are we still good for the S.H.I.E.L.D. outing?"

"I'm sorry I didn't call earlier. Are we still good for the S.H.I.E.L.D. outing?"

"Of course," she told me. "Would tomorrow work?"

There was no point in postponing it. "That sounds good."

"Great. Are things going well over there?"

"Yeah. I'm going to start looking for a job. I don't think I'll ask Tony for something, because he seems a bit…" I leaned against the wall and searched for a word. "Spontaneous. He threw me off the landing today."

She laughed. "Would you be interested in working for S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Seriously?"

"I'm very serious. I'm largely responsible for seeking out candidates. And we could use your expertise."

I was flattered by her comment – she knew that S.H.I.E.L.D. could benefit from my acumen. Sure, my work in the past had created a monster, but my work on the Helicarrier had been valuable. Even the Hulk himself could be valuable now. This part made me curious. "What kind of expertise? Intellectual or physical?"

"That's up to you."

_Interesting… There's a choice. _"You're saying the Hulk could be used in combat?"

"Never in a gratuitous manner – we're not barbarians – but yes. There's plenty of individuals that need counteraction. You don't have to get involved in that, though. Whatever form you take, it's your body. You're not a property."

I chuckled and swept my foot across the floor. "It's always good to know my basic human rights."

"Don't worry. Director Fury isn't the kind of person to…"

…_Fury. I almost forgot about him. _He was a critical factor in my decision, because if I started working with S.H.I.E.L.D., he would need to know about my newfound control – and his reaction might be poor. His previous conduct meant nothing. Changes in the status quo can change people.

"You've gotten awfully quiet there, Bruce. Is something bothering you?"

"It's Director Fury… What if I'm just a commodity – a _specimen_ – to him?"

"A specimen? What makes you say that?"

"I know that Fury respects me, and that he's been leaving me alone. But that could change when I tell him about the Hulk." I gripped the phone. "He could revive the Super Soldier Program, and I'll be right under his nose for surveillance."

"Bruce… That's far from conceivable. Do you remember Phase Two?"

"Yeah."

"Remember how you thought it was a stake in the weapons race? Then what did you learn?"

My grip on the phone loosened. _She's good at this. _"It was made to protect the earth from threats."

"Precisely. There's no place in this world for more threats, and biological weapons are a ticking time bomb. Fury understands the consequences of the Super Soldier program, which is why we kept Ross away from you all those years. You're safe, Bruce."

_There's no doubt about it._ "You're right. I'm sorry about all this – it's in my nature to be cautious."

"It's in everyone's nature. But sometimes it keeps us from healing."

I took a breath and paced around the room. Her words were comforting, sweet like honey, and they made me grow warm inside. "You know… I haven't been legally employed in years. If I accept your offer, would you show me the ropes?"

"You know that I will."

I had to smile. "It's a deal then. When do you want–"

Someone knocked on the door. I jumped in surprise. It was Tony, and he sounded upset when he asked me to let him in. I complied and he paced around me, pointing at the phone with suspicion. "What's this 'deal' you're making? A job with S.H.I.E.L.D.? Have you lost your marbles?"

I placed my hand over the phone. "Were you eavesdropping on me?"

There was venom in his gaze, but his voice was uneven. "No. Anyways, Banner… Putzing around with Selvig is fine, but going off into the boonies with those clowns…?" He crossed his arms. "Please… Just get off the phone."

His demeanor was oddly frantic. I held the phone to my ear. "I'm sorry; let me call you back."

She was concerned. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah. I mean, I think so–"

Tony snapped his fingers in my face. "Banner, get off the phone."

I hung up and dropped it onto the bed. "Sorry. Tell me what's going on."

He was tense. "You can't trust them."

"How? You shouldn't dabble in suspicion, Tony."

He turned away and started walking out of the room. "You're telling me not to dabble when you're making house calls with Romanoff? How could you possibly have the hots for her? She's got a pretty face – I'll give you that – but she bites, Banner."

I followed him out. "It's not like that."

He scoffed. "Lies, lies, and a partridge in a pear tree. Your taste in women is atrocious. But there's a bigger problem here. Tell me something, Doc – what's wrong with working at my company? Is it too honest for you or something?"

"Don't preach about honesty. You dealt with Ross and hid it from Pepper."

He flushed. "How do you know about that…? Did Romanoff tell you? What else did you hear?"

I ignored the barrage of questions. "That's not part of this discussion. I'm trying to prove a point – that we're all guilty of something. Both you and S.H.I.E.L.D. have made mistakes in the past, so don't prop yourself up by throwing them under the bus."

He looked scared. "I suppose you're still going with them, then?"

"That's the plan." Then I suppressed a sigh. "Tony… In the last five minutes, you've panned both my rationale and my decisions. Maybe you're right in doing that. But even if S.H.I.E.L.D. does turn out to be cold, they couldn't hurt me. Don't worry."

His fear persisted. It seemed like he was going to speak, but then he spun around and headed straight for the gantry. His escape route was already emerging from the tile, the metallic innards shining like bones under the midnight canopy.

I followed him. "Don't leave, Tony. We have to talk about this."

He looked at me. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but there's nothing to discuss anymore."

_What? You can't be serious._

The armor encased him in a shell that appeared black and blue, and he prepared to take off. Such an abrupt exit would leave the discussion on a sour note, and that wasn't right. Fueled by upset, a plume of heat flowed into my arm. Tony's suit started humming with energy and the repulsors lit up, but he was too slow – I leaped forward and pulled him away from the landing.

He cussed me out. I threw him back into the Tower. He struck the floor with a clang and skidded before coming to a stop, leaving a strip of scratches in his wake. He rose to his feet. "You can't shanghai me into staying, Banner. I'm going to count to three!"

"Please get out of the armor, Tony. I just want to talk!"

He aimed a repulsor at me. It powered up and whined threateningly. "One!"

"Put your hand down!"

"Two!"

"Please, Tony!"

He sighed. "Three. Sorry, Banner."

Nothing happened at first. I thought he was bluffing. But then the powdery mist of a laser filled my head, smothering all my prior beliefs. My vision was overcome by whiteness, and I frantically blinked to bring the world back again. It took a number of moments, but once my sight had been restored, I looked around the room.

Tony was gone.

Jarvis concluded the fight. "Doctor, forgive me for such a request, but Mister Stark is asking you to leave the Tower until he returns. He's given you a generous two minutes to comply. I suggest you make your exit – I'd rather not have to set the guard dogs on you."

"Tony doesn't have dogs, Jarvis."

"I stand corrected – eight burly men that can carry you out on a platter."

_That's better. _"Just give me a moment and I'll be out of the way."

I rubbed my eyes and looked at my arm. Surprisingly, it was more augmented than it had been on previous occasions. It probably looked strange, but the heat it created felt good – and perhaps even more so than before. Regardless, I could feel air passing through the shoulder of my shirt. There was a tear in it.

_Great._

I was down another shirt. But this was only the beginning – it was midnight, and I was getting evicted with no idea about the duration. Stark had also criticized me about my dealings with S.H.I.E.L.D., and knowing this, I couldn't count on him right now.

But there was always Natasha.

* * *

**_There's tons of plot points here that will cause problems for Bruce and Tony in the future... Can you spot them all? Also, please leave a review if you can __– I really appreciate it! :)_**

**_Until next time!_**


	15. Approaching Storm

**XV.  
****Approaching Storm**

* * *

There was no time to waste. I picked up the phone and started dialing–

Jarvis interrupted me. "Doctor, please slow down. You don't want to have a contusion."

Then he told me that Tony had eased the countdown. There was room to breathe now, so I pulled myself together before calling Natasha. She answered the phone in an instant, and I explained what happened with Tony. She asked if I wanted to stay at her hotel suite. Tony wasn't going to let me back in tonight – it was too late – so I accepted her offer, then I hung up and looked out the window.

The skies were dark and fostering rain. I could have used Tony's coat again, but there was still a bitter taste in my mouth from the fight. I left the building and stood outside with a pair of sunglasses on my face. Behind the lenses, my eyes glowed to carry warmth through my body.

I was a living space heater.

"Sir, your ride is here."

I glanced down the street and saw a large white van. The vehicle was bright against the dirty concrete and asphalt. It stopped in front of the building, then Romanoff emerged and came up to me. Her appearance was arresting. "All set, Bruce?"

"Yeah."

"Why the glasses? It's so dark outside."

She was brimming with curiosity. It made me self-conscious, so I looked at the ground and tried not to stumble over my words. "Well… It's cold, and gamma radiation comes in handy for keeping warm."

"Good idea."

I looked up at her. "Thanks."

Her nonchalance about the whole matter was refreshing. It didn't stop there, though – she took my sunglasses and folded them up. "There. Now you don't look like you're in the mafia."

I smiled. "Give them back."

She beamed. "What if I say no?"

"I'll persuade you."

The agent was tickled. But instead of returning the glasses, she walked back to her side of the vehicle. I took a seat in the passenger side. There were many locks on the doors, and the potential reasons for them gave me goosebumps, but I knew better than to suspect a trap – this was Romanoff, and the van could never contain me with a couple of locks.

I turned to her. "You'll have to try a little harder if you want to kidnap me."

She chuckled and returned my glasses, which I hooked onto my shirt pocket. Then she placed the keys in the ignition and gave them a turn. The vehicle started humming. There was a calm finesse in her eyes, and it was impossible to ignore.

_Beautiful…_

She pulled onto the street and cast a glance at me. "What's on your mind, Bruce?"

I saw my reflection in the window and remembered that my eyes were still green. "There's so many things to mention… You treat me like a human being, you're not judgmental of what I've done, and… I'm just… I'm really glad that you're here, Natasha."

She was moved. "Did you just call me…?"

"It's been long enough."

The conversation became taciturn. I knew we were both thinking about our budding relationship. Soon enough, rain started pouring onto the vehicle with metallic pattering. It dripped down the windows and mingled on the hood of the van.

My eyes finally returned to normal.

The rain started to come down harder. Natasha turned the wheel once more, and then I finally saw the hotel. It didn't take long before the van was parked and we were prepping ourselves to exit. The rain was still pouring though, and it wasn't ready to let up. I opened my door. "Let's book it."

She was enthusiastic.

"On three?"

But there was no time to count, because she opened her door and started running for the hotel. The rain was soaking into my shirt and cooling my skin, but I quickly caught up to her. We both stopped beneath an awning that was mere feet away from the entrance. Water dripped down my body, causing my shirt to cling in a sticky manner, so I wrung it out and turned to Natasha. She was equally as soaked. It was cold and there was no point in staying outside, so I headed for the door.

"Hey… Come back here."

Her voice was mesmeric, and it convinced me to obey. The woman was looking at me with sentiment – and something else. It mirrored my own emotions. I stepped closer to her and put my hands in my pockets. "But it's freezing out here."

"Is that really a problem for you?"

Understanding turned into bravery. My eyes lit up.

She smiled. "See? And no; you don't need sunglasses."

"Even when I'm like this?"

"Bruce… _Especially _when you're like that."

I drew closer and took her hand – the move was gentle in nature but free of precautions. In response, my blood grew warmer and cried for more sustenance. Natasha came right up to me. I put a hand around her waist, and the other one drew toward her cheek. Her skin was soft. Then she wrapped her arms around me with exceptional polish. My desire was burning a pit into my stomach.

I posed a silent question to her.

She was surprised.

_Come on, Natasha… I'm ready for this._

That single plea – one that swam in my eyes with hunger and passion – was all it took.

« • »

The springs in the pullout whined again. It bothered me. Natasha was sleeping on a much better mattress, but I couldn't be there with her – I had pulled away after the first kiss. Why? Because all my good emotions had been swallowed up by self-loathing, and consequently, I knew our relationship had to slow down. My demons weren't completely gone yet.

_I'm just glad she took it well._

She had been understanding about the whole matter, because she knew it would take a while for me to curb my uncertainties. In the meantime, our relationship would continue, but it would just progress more slowly.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. It was easier said than done.

« • »

The Schawarma eatery smelled like spiced meat.

But this had little bearing on the condition of the place. The floors were strewn with rubble, and the walls were full of dings and dents. Tables were either propped against the wall or standing flat. The lights were flickering with erratic blindness, and my chair was wobbling because one leg was stuck in a hole in the floor–

"Bruce?"

I faced Natasha. She was sitting in front of me with a cup of coffee in her hands. "Sorry?"

"Your drink's about to take a dive."

The glass was fresh with condensation and happily holding a pear-colored soda. It was also precariously close to my elbow. I pushed it toward the center of the table and shrugged off the blunder. "Whoops."

"You look tired."

"Yeah."

Her shoe touched mine with a gentle tap. "Are you still okay to do this?"

"If you're talking about the S.H.I.E.L.D. outing, then yeah. I'm not tired enough to postpone it. And if you're talking about us, my answer is the same… I really like you, Natasha."

She smiled and reached into her pocket. After a moment of searching, she pulled out a white card and handed it to me. "This is a visitor's pass. Until you speak to Fury about work, you have to carry it."

I turned the card around in my hands. "Go on."

Natasha didn't continue at first, because the aroma of pitas and meat were warming the air. Our server set the food down, and once he was gone, Natasha spoke. "First off, I'll tell you a bit about S.H.I.E.L.D.. We operate with an eight-level structure. Each level has special clearances and permissions. I'm a level seven, for instance. Given your qualifications and prior contributions, I think you'll be a level two upon hire."

I raised a brow. "Only a level two?"

"You could have been a level one," she teased, picking up a fork and sifting through the rice on her plate.

_Fair enough. _My attention turned to the food in front of me, and my appetite suddenly became ravenous. I couldn't get the food into my mouth fast enough. Natasha looked amused at my blatant lack of table manners. She gradually started working at her own dish.

I picked up a napkin. "Is Selvig still working there?"

She nodded. "You might recognize some other faces, too. Actually, I should tell you about one particular person… His name's Richard Millhouse Jones. You used to know him, right?"

The name was ringing a bell. "Yeah. He was a teenager back then – and a high school dropout. But he always came to Culver University to speak with me. I don't think there were many good role models in his life."

"How did you guys meet?"

"Science fair, actually… I used to hold them all the time. They were mostly about applied sciences, but one day, Rick just came along and stuck to me like glue. He enjoyed reading about my work, helping out… He was a good kid. I even let him come to the Gamma Pulse trial…"

_…Oh, no. He was there during the accident._

"Bruce?"

"Is he okay?"

Natasha leaned forward. "Before I say anything… He's fine. Now, Richard told us that when the accident took place, he opened the door to the chamber and tried to help you. At that point, he was struck by gamma radiation."

I stared at her. _What happened?_

"He fell back and got away from there, virtually unharmed. Everyone was amazed because the radiation didn't make him sick. He refused to be hospitalized or put on medical watch." She began cutting some of the meat on her plate. "But he's incredibly strong for his size, so his genes must have lucked out and _utilized _the radiation." Then she laughed. "You two would really get along."

"What's he like now?"

"Confident. Unbiased. And he wears a red shirt that isn't part of the dress code. Fury's up to his eyepatch in arguments over it, but Richard always says it's a lucky charm. I swear, that kid could get away with murder."

I had to smile. "Sounds like he's doing well."

"He's been keeping busy and helping us out. And he's been waiting for you to reappear, Bruce – that's the reason he joined us in the first place. Unfortunately, he wasn't active when you were onboard the carrier. But he's there today."

_That's great._

Now there were two people to speak with about my Hulk situation. Tony would probably ostracize me for telling them, and he'd claim they were out for my blood, but he had no evidence to prove it. I searched my pockets for cash and looked at Natasha. "Let's head out now. I'll buy."

She shook her head and smiled. "Oh, Bruce – do you even have any money?"

_You're right. I'm completely broke._

_…Ow._

A mild pain started to ring inside my skull. It was probably from my lack of sleep, though, so there was nothing I could do about it. I tried to shake the pain off by glancing around the restaurant, but the place seemed overly small now. It was uncomfortable to be here.

_ Why do I suddenly feel claustrophobic? It's like–_

"You okay?"

I blinked. Natasha was looking at me with concern. "Yeah. Sorry."

* * *

**_I had a little "OMG Brutasha" moment when I wrote the first section! XD I can't write romance to save my life, but whatever. Hopefully I'll improve later on. Also... Rick Jones. Aghh. ;u; He's my favourite Marvel character next to Bruce and Tony. *Flails*_**


	16. Down the Rabbit Hole

**XVI.  
****Down the Rabbit Hole**

* * *

I was running.

…Okay, more like zooming around in my suit. It was impossible to calm down right now, because there were so many scenarios on my mind. If they happened, I was screwed. And god, that fight with Banner was so embarrassing. Still, I _had_ to try and keep him away from S.H.I.E.L.D. – they knew everything about me. About Ross.

_Yeah… My goose is cooked. S.H.I.E.L.D. can say that the whole 'Ross' thing is confidential, but Banner's going to learn about it at some point, and he's going to be pissed. After his story about Elizabeth, how he can't apologize to Ross anymore, and what he said about cowards…_

"Sir, maybe you should just tell him yourself."

_That's what you call consolation?_ "You know what he thinks about phonies, Jarv? They remind him of Ross. You'd better see the connection here, because I didn't program you to have the intelligence of a shoe."

"I can, sir. But you really need to get rid of your emotional constipation."

"Who died and made you my therapist?"

"You've never _had_ a therapist. If I may…"

"Oh, now what?"

"Your paranoia is making me weary. And sir, if you tell Doctor Banner, he may not be that upset. You're not a coward for telling the truth – you're a coward for hiding it."

_Ouch. That's a spanking and a half._

I looked at the frozen skies and rolled through a cloud. Jarvis had a point. Banner would be upset if I told him, but if he heard things from a random baboon at S.H.I.E.L.D., that would just be horrible. My scaredy-cat bullshit had to stop. "You're right. But I don't know where he's gone, Jarvis… How will I get to him before someone else spills the beans?"

"As I recall, three days ago, you hacked the S.H.I.E.L.D. database. It was an inspiring performance."

« • »

The Quinjet was a steely, well-muscled aircraft. It was small and confining, too, which made me feel sick – my earlier claustrophobia had stuck around. But luckily for me, Natasha was the pilot, and this helped me avoid a mental breakdown. On the way, she taught me about the instruments and gauges. Some were complicated and flew right over my head, but I just nodded and tried not to show my confusion.

"And this is the emergency switch," she told me. "It opens the rear doors – even if the jet's in motion."

"Like we'll ever need to use it," I jested.

The flight was a couple hours in length. During it, the skies melted into a carapace of black and blue, dulling everything to darkness. The seats of the Quinjet began glowing with orange lights.

It was rather late once we got to the main ship. Natasha steered the jet closer and docked it in the Wishbone Sector, a massive area that curved around the nether regions of the Helicarrier. The jet's rear door opened and I stepped into the sector.

The space was liberating. I took a breath and managed to shake my neurosis. However, the air was heavy – it smelled like fuel and rust. I kept glancing around, and soon enough, I made the mistake of looking at the balcony above us. There was a massive pane of shattered glass hanging from it, and it boasted numerous holes, almost like it had fallen victim to heavy ammunition. There was only one reason for this.

_I did that…_

"Don't worry about it, Bruce."

I glanced at her. "That's a big mess to fix."

"Well, you made a big impact when you came here."

I tried to hide my amusement. Natasha coaxed me into the main corridor, suggesting we see Fury before anything else, and I agreed with her. I followed her through the halls like a blind kitten. The passages were illuminated by strips of light that crept up from the walls and met on the ceiling. It made me feel like we were walking through a spine. The occasional light was flickering, which helped to break this illusion. Numerous people in uniform stalked past us, and when they did, I looked at the ground.

_I need to get some confidence… Christ._

"How are you doing, Bruce?"

I forgot about my personal development. "Well, I think I'll be wearing my own clothes while I'm here. That gear is a rash waiting to happen."

She nudged me teasingly. "But you've got a tear in your shirt. What are you going to do about that?"

"Wear it with pride."

Natasha smiled and pulled out a device from her pocket. "Fury's in the cargo bay. It's not far."

"Okay."

We continued down the corridors. Eventually – and much to my uneasiness – we happened to pass the sector that hosted a large containment chamber. The cell was bathing in a sickly green light that bounced off the metal innards of the surrounding room. It had been created with one sole purpose – to imprison the Hulk in a time of panic, perhaps even forever. Natasha didn't even blink as she passed it, but I had to stop and look through the windows. I crossed my arms.

_What a reminder of uglier times._

"Bruce… It's going to be decommissioned," she told me.

I laughed. "I doubt Fury trusts me that much."

She was going to say something, but she was interrupted by a deliberate cough. It came from behind me, and I turned around to face the source of it. I was looking at a young man. He wore a red shirt, and his hair was long, brown, coming to rest above his shoulders. It was Rick.

"Hey, Doctor! Friendly neighborhood sidekick, at your service."

I forgot how to speak.

He laughed. "Long time, no talk, huh?"

"Yeah…"

The young man carried the conversation with gladness. "I wasn't expecting you to be here! What gives?"

"There's… Been a change in the status quo." The best course of action was to show him my powers – after keeping him in the dark for so long, it was only fair – so I brought heat into my head. It brightened the color in my eyes.

"Hot damn," he said. "Bruce is _back!_"

Natasha chuckled and came up beside me. "You two can reminisce for a while. Bruce, do you mind if I let Fury know you're down here?"

"Sure."

She left us to our conversation. Rick was really happy to see me again, and it made me feel bad. "Look, Rick… I'm sorry I never went back to see you. It wasn't my intention to just…"

"Aw, Bruce; don't sweat it. I always knew you were a good guy."

"Thanks."

Rick ushered me toward the door of the containment chamber's room. It was locked, but then he started punching in an access code. "I gotta show you something before Fury comes," he said. "I happened to catch the tail of your convo with Black Widow, so…"

I was curious. "Show me what?"

He grinned. "See for yourself."

And then the door opened. Rick gestured for me to step inside the room. I didn't know what he was trying to show me, but my questions were answered when he led me to a control panel for the chamber. The frame was silver, and the screen was churning with red words.

_It's already been decommissioned. And Fury doesn't even know about the Hulk yet._

"S.H.I.E.L.D.'s letting you off the hook, so there's no use for this guy anymore. They're blowing it up. Well, they're actually just dismantling it, but close enough."

I turned to the chamber and my eyes reverted. "Fury actually trusts me enough to…"

"Why not? You were moping around in Calcutta for a year without any problems. And speaking of Calcutta," he mentioned, "it looks like you might have a little something for Black Widow. Am I right, or am I right?"

I flushed. "I'm not… Okay, yeah. There might be something."

"She's definitely a looker… Whew! I wish I was that lucky."

"And she might be a keeper, too."

"Hey now; let's not get ahead of ourselves!"

Rick was right – and not just about Romanoff. There was no telling what challenges lay ahead. Given my potential employment with S.H.I.E.L.D., I had to tread carefully because I didn't want to make the wrong impression. But the screen in front of me was promising, and it spoke of established trust. I had to be optimistic.

"You've got my respect, Doctor."

I blinked. "Sorry, you were saying?"

"You've got one hell of a superpower. Honestly, I thought it was going to make you crazy or something."

I smiled in response and allowed my gaze to rest on the containment cell. It seemed brighter now, and not so murky in character. But without another word, Rick turned around and stared at the entrance to the room. I mirrored his reaction.

Fury was standing there.

Rick spoke up. "Howdy, Director. What's kicking?"

His superior was peeved – and it probably meant that we weren't supposed to be in here. But Fury was pleasant as he stepped toward me and held out a hand. "Good to see you again, Doctor. Agent Romanoff said you needed to speak with me?"

I swallowed and shook his hand. "Yes."

Rick spoke again. "Hey, about all this… I was just–"

"We'll have words later, Jones."

Fury was curt. If Rick didn't stop interrupting us, he was going to get a suspension. This discussion had to change course. "Director, I'm here because Romanoff has offered me work."

Rick's eyes lit up. "Oh, yeah! Now that's what I'm talking about, Banner!"

I cast him a stern glance.

Fury garnered my attention once more. "You really wanna work for S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Yes."

He laughed warmly. "I admire your guts. But there's a ton of things to consider, and in your case, discretion takes precedence over 'wants'." He gestured to the containment cell. "This may be out of commission, but that doesn't mean you're out of the woods when it comes to your condition. I'm sorry. That's how it is."

"I understand. But you've got one thing wrong – I have full control now."

He was suspicious. His gaze flickered, swimming with deep thoughts, and it wound up on the holster on his belt. His hand followed it. "Richard, I'm ordering you to stay back and not interfere with what I'm about to do. Then he looked at me. "Doctor, forgive my manners, but you can't stay unless you prove things." He pulled out a pistol and aimed it at me. "Step into the cell."

I backed into it and nearly tripped on a loose cable. "You don't trust me…?"

"Doctor, there's a difference between trusting someone and having proof that you can."

Rick sighed. "This is just an idea, but you might wanna reconsider… You know, _shooting him._"

Fury just tapped the gun in the air and cocked the barrel. "Please change, Doctor."

_And then you'll shoot me? No, wait a second…_

Shooting me like this would only make a mess, and there would be no point in shooting the Hulk – the very act of transforming would prove my control, negating the need for weapons. And the cell wasn't even working, so it was pointless to be in it. He _did _trust me – the gun was nothing more than a ploy, something to test my ability to cope with stress. An audition. In the deepest region of my mind came a flash of pride and a prick of determination. I would blow him away. "Pull the trigger."

His reaction was priceless.

"I'm inviting you to take a shot, Director."

He narrowed his eyes. "If you say so. You have five seconds."

_Yeah, you know what I'm thinking. _A crooked smile formed on my face. I readied myself.

"Bruce," shouted Rick, "change first, man! Don't be a rebel!"

I ignored him. Fury wanted to see my capabilities, and he would see them in the raw – and I didn't care how much it would hurt. Rick was scared, but it didn't matter because the countdown had finally–

Bang.

The round hit me. There was pain. It radiated in sharp daggers that passed through my ribs and sternum and it made me want to cry out, but I couldn't break my composure. Crimson dripped down the front of my body and seeped into my shirt. "You believed me from the beginning, didn't you?"

He was flabbergasted. "Yeah, you win. But you're bleeding, Doctor."

"That's my point."

"You wanna consider fixing that?"

I laughed and stepped out of the cell, then I took pleasure in their stunned faces after telling them, "no." But it was a cruel response, so I finally pulled the trigger on my head. A surplus of heat flashed into my face and raced down my neck to permeate the wound. I could feel the bullet. This was going to hurt.

I pulled it out.


	17. Honey

**XVII.  
Honey**

* * *

"Dummy, get back here. I told you to _make_ coffee, not take a coffee break."

The mechanical arm spun around in shame. Light bounced off the metal parts and robbed me of my vision. Through the glare and the tinnitus in my tired ears, I heard someone approaching the workshop. I peeked through the window and saw Pepper. She was pretty damn sexy in her housecoat, but there were bags under her eyes, and she looked like she was going to murder me. It was a bit of a turn-off.

"You been remodeling upstairs?" she asked. "Scratches, and… Broken tiles. Looks good, Tony."

I grinned sheepishly.

"What's going on?"

"Sorry, Pep. I'm really busy."

"But it's two in the morning. Where's Bruce?"

"Gone."

"Tony," she began, "you better not have done anything to him."

_If only that was the truth._ I turned away from the computer and looked her in the eye. "Look, Pepper… There's some stuff going on right now, and it pains me to say this, but I need you to skedaddle. Can you do that for me, honey?"

"'Skedaddle'?"

My patience was gone. I rolled my eyes and returned to the binary codes on the screen. They were the difference between getting shunned by Banner, or getting my head totally ripped off because I dawdled on the whole 'Ross' situation. Devising a S.H.I.E.L.D. hacking program was more important than arguing with a table condiment.

Then I thought about the remaining piece of Sneaky – the helmet – that had been plaguing me since day one. It was gone now, and if there was one thing to be proud of, it was the fact that I had worked up enough courage to dispose of it. It held too many bad memories.

Besides, it was probably full of Ross' blood.

« • »

"First thing's first – you're full of blood. We gotta get you cleaned up."

I mused over the bullet in my palm. It was glazed with red and green blood that felt warm on my skin. The bullet had been rather easy to remove, thanks to my healing abilities that had been triggered by the partial change. My eyes glowed as the wound healed with a sharp burning sensation. "Director, just be upfront with me in the future."

"Oh, believe me," he said. "I will."

"Did I pass your test?"

He nodded. "Welcome aboard, Doctor. And congratulations."

"Thanks." I turned to Rick and gave him an earnest smile. "You okay?"

He was speechless at first, but then he released a deep breath. "You're crazy, man! You know that?"

Fury went over to a nearby repository and found a white cloth. He handed it to me. "Doctor, I'm gonna ask you to leave the room. You're not supposed to be here, and neither is Rick. On that note, take him with you. Make sure he stays out of trouble."

"Hey, now," Rick piped.

I shook my head in amusement and finished cleaning the blood from my body. There was a problem, though – my shirt was stained with crimson. It looked terrible. Rick noticed my qualms and left the room, and within moments, he came back with a dark undershirt. He gave it to me, and I slipped it on. Now that I was more comfortable, my eyes faded to brown and I started leading Rick out of the room. He followed me with eagerness. I wanted to find Natasha, but I didn't have any sense of direction because the carrier was such a massive vehicle. Still, after a few minutes, this was the least of my problems.

The claustrophobia was starting to set in.

It wrapped itself around my brain like a band of hot crimson. The sensation was carried by a throbbing headache that felt like it could worsen at any moment. I wiped my brow. It was hot and clammy.

"Uh, Doc?"

"Yeah?"

"You feeling all right? You look like you're about to pop."

"I need some air, Rick."

"Ah! Well, I've got just the solution! Let's ditch this hunk of junk and head up to the flight deck."

"You want to go outside? But we're…"

He laughed. "Pretty high up? No worries – I do it all the time!" He gave me a casual punch and started walking again. "A little gamma goes a long way, Doctor. How much do you wanna bet you'll be fine out there, too?"

The prospect of going outside was tempting. My head was raw from anxiety. "Okay, maybe just for a bit."

"Sweet!" he said, swinging his arm around my shoulder. "Follow me. And you might wanna make those eyes green again… The air outside is a bitch."

« • »

"So, Bruce, where have you been all this time?"

I contemplated my answer and gazed into the pitch-black atmosphere with green eyes. My claustrophia was still present, but it was more manageable now. We were sitting against the front wheel of a Quinjet. The plane was tied to the tarmac so it wouldn't roll off the carrier, and its safety lights were hissing and humming with pale color. A belt of white lights dotted the carrier's boundaries. "Around."

"Well, that's mighty specific!"

I chuckled. "There's not much to tell. I moved between countries for a while, but after the invasion, Tony Stark helped me with the Hulk. I decided to stick around there. I've been staying at his Tower."

Rick's interest shot up. "You're still getting along?"

_Still…? _"Yeah."

He smiled and reached into his pocket, pulling out a bag of dry cereal. He popped a handful into his mouth. "That great! Anyhow_,_ it's awesome that you're working with us now… But do you have what it takes?" He put the bag down and rose to his feet. "Get up."

I complied with a nervous smile. "I have experience in combat, Rick."

"You mean, experience in smashing things? Nah… That doesn't count as experience."

"I'm skilled in Jiu-Jitsu."

He stood there for a moment, then he came forward and tried to hook my jaw. It was a predictable move, and I challenged it by raising my right arm and barring the collision. When his arm came into contact with mine, I pulled it around and twisted it. He yelled in surprise, but it was too late – the movement brought him down to the ground. He fell on his back with a thud.

"Not bad," he gasped. "You're… Ow." He flinched and rubbed his neck. "You've got skills, Doctor!"

"Sorry… Are you okay?"

"Yep!"

His comment was betrayed by a wince of pain. I scraped my foot across the ground and watched him straighten out his back. "I guess this means I'm a good candidate for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s combat stuff. I don't think I'll be doing that, though."

Rick laughed and picked up his cereal. "What? You'd love it, Doctor! Take it from me. There's espionages, arrests… And the occasional 'help, my cat's stuck in the tree and won't come down!' crap. Bottom line, if S.H.I.E.L.D.'s around, we get things done."

"Maybe, but I'll probably be in R&D until I'm more comfortable."

"That's cool," he said. "Either way, things are gonna be a heck of a lot better for you – just think of the respect you'll get from everyone once you start working." He scrounged for more cereal and stuffed it into his mouth. "Not to mention the fact that Ross has been killed, so there's no more problems there!"

"Yeah."

_…Wait, what did you just say? Ross was killed?_

My head began to churn. My eyes blazed into a brighter color and frost filled my veins despite the physical heat from the radiation. Initially, I felt sick to my stomach, but then I felt restless. Angered. "Rick."

"What's up?"

"I thought Ross committed suicide."

He bit his lip. "Oh, shit… He didn't tell you what happened?"

"Fury? No."

The young man stepped closer and opened his mouth, but he took a long pause before speaking. He was apologetic. "Look, Doctor… I gotta play the neutral card and stay out of this. If he never told you, there's probably a good reason for it, so I can't really–"

"Stop," I told him bitterly. "How could S.H.I.E.L.D. justify keeping information like that from me unless they have something to hide? I was Ross' prime target for eight years. Something's not right here."

His eyes widened. "Oh, come on, man! We're not conspirators."

"That's getting harder to believe," I growled.

"The secrecy isn't hurting you," he said. "Please let it go. And please don't go to Fury. If he didn't tell you about Ross, technically, I wasn't supposed to either, and he's already mad enough at me…" He ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck, this is so confusing…"

I grew furious. "You think I'm going to keep quiet with secrets hanging over my head?"

"But what about _me_, Doc? I'm gonna be in so much trouble for this."

_You're serious? _Speaking with Fury was more imperative than Rick's potential suspension. Some hidden padlock opened up inside of me and rage came crawling out. It pricked at my skin. "This isn't about you." Then, turning my back on him, I headed for the door.

"Wait, Doctor!"

His desperation was revolting. I looked over my shoulder. "Give it up, Rick."

"I could lose my job," he begged. "Please."

"You think your job's the only thing at stake here? Do you understand the gravity of the situation?" My emotions were building up, growing dark, spilling over and creating rage. I stalked back to him and jabbed a finger at his chest. "Get over yourself, you selfish bastard."

"That's not what I meant–"

I drove my fist across his face.

There was a crack. It was a thrilling sound. I hit him again, and again, blowing past his resistance until he fell to the tarmac. He cringed as he pulled himself to his knees, every breath uneven. Blood coated my hand, hanging like honey and trailing down to the ground. His nose was covered in the same fluid. It was warming the air. I could smell it. "Stay down."

Rick held his hand to his face and coughed. "What… Where did that come from, Doctor…?"

_Surely you can't be that stupid_. My fist coiled again. It was ready to change on my command. "Selfish people like you deserve to bleed. And if Fury wants to hide things from me, I'll make him talk. I'll break his whole fucking ship. Unlike you, I'm not a coward."

"Bruce," he cried. "Listen to yourself!"

I sneered at him. "Be careful what you call me, Rick."

He was silent. Blood dripped down his nose and he started to choke, but he wasn't worth the trouble. I headed back into the carrier with the sole intention of finding Romanoff and Fury. They had been playing me like a harp. I was going to show them my disappointment. I would make them talk. If they denied anything…

_So help them._

I slammed the door behind me and stalked down the first of many vertebral corridors.

* * *

_**Oh my goodness... This chapter turned out totally different than what I had originally intended. Wow. XD**_


	18. Complication

**XVIII.  
Complication**

* * *

My quarries were nowhere to be found. They were two ants in a colony. And the tunnels were carbon copies of each other, causing me to circle around in a tedious manner. Confusion seeped from my pores like blood. I wiped the physical blood from my hand.

_…Dammit! I've seen this set of doors before._

The lights seemed to be flickering more than usual. I looked up at the ceiling. It was dark, and then it was light, shifting from cold blues to even colder whites. The temperature fell into a chilling stasis. The walls were getting closer, less capacious.

_Stay calm. It's all in your head. Just find them._

The green in my eyes melted away.

It was inane to wander around here and waste time, so I thought about going to the main hub. Fury could be there, or someone who knew where he was. I tried to remember the directions. It took a while, because there were so many maps in my head, and the clutter was nothing short of pure chaos. I finally escaped the mental mess and headed for the hub.

Fury wasn't there, though. S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel were scattered around the room, swarming like bees, and they were my best shot. I took a deep breath and asked one of them about Fury. They coughed up his whereabouts.

_The conference room on my right?_

I stepped up to the door of the room. It contained a metal locking system, but I would pry it from the frame if he kept me out. My fist slammed into it. "Open up!"

People looked at me. The attention was annoying, and it made me angry. Heat simmered under my skin, prepping me for action, but there was no reason to act on it. They were nobodies_,_ and they were too weak to handle a beating. The door opened to a slit.

But it wasn't Fury – it was Romanoff, and she looked anxious. "Bruce? I'm busy."

"Is Fury in there?"

"Yes. What's–"

I didn't have time for this. I pushed my way into the room and slammed the door behind me. The space was small and dim. Three large screens, one of them saying 'standby' in red letters, adorned the walls. They cast a faint grey light over everything, and it made the room feel like a prison cell. But I was a chameleon, easily blending in with the darkness.

Fury was solemn. "Doctor, we're on a video call. Get out."

"Not a chance." A chemical reaction gripped my eyes and corroded my voice. "I know about Ross."

They looked at each other in surprise. Romanoff spoke first. "How much do you know?"

"Just that you lied about his death. And that S.H.I.E.L.D. was involved."

She swallowed and turned to her supervisor. "Give us some time. I'll talk to him."

Fury clearly didn't want to leave, but he didn't argue. Still, he was really slow. I bullied him into moving faster by snarling. He closed the door on us, then I turned to Romanoff and clenched my fist. Concurrently, my head began to ache, but it was a minor issue. "Explain yourself," I growled, "or you're going to be sorry."

"Why are you threatening me, Bruce?"

I was silent. There was ample room in my heart for resentment, but now that she'd mentioned it, a threat did seem incredibly rash. Still, I couldn't help it. I stood my ground and let the tension chip away at me.

She walked up to me. "You have to relax."

"Why should I?"

"You can trust me."

"Funny. You're asking for trust when S.H.I.E.L.D. just pulled the rug out from under me?"

Venom coated her voice. "Bruce, if the circumstances were allowing, I would've told you about Ross." Then she softened up. "Ross had many connections in the military, and it came to a point where he provoked the wrong people. He had been dealing with them for years, but after the invasion, things went south–"

"Who were they?"

She was quiet. "Technicians. They killed him and got their hands dirty in the process."

"Why?"

"Ross was threatening them, and threatening others."

"Wait – S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't involved?"

She shook her head. "We got there after the matter. It's a good thing we did, because the FBI was opening a case against them. It would've caused a lot of bad publicity. Fury smoothed things over by making a deal with them. They didn't want anyone to know, so I can't tell you who they are."

My fist relaxed, but my gaze remained cautious. "Some story. How does Rick know?"

"You're talking about Rick," she said. "Something happens, and he wants to know, whether he's supposed to know or not." She contemplated my face. Minnows of hurt were swimming in her eyes. "Please don't look at me like that."

My lip peeled into a snarl. "It's my face, Natasha. I can't change it."

"You can change your eyes back," she said. "Come here."

I grudgingly walked closer to her.

"You're still upset… What's wrong?"

I couldn't put my finger on it. I was in a sour mood, and it could've been from anything – this ship, the run-in with Fury, or even just because my emotions had more freedom now. What really bothered me, though, was my confrontation with Rick. There was no justification for what I did to him. I would need to make things right. "Nothing, Natasha. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be this upset."

"Don't apologize."

I closed my eyes and leaned into her. My arms started to shake slightly, like I was going through some kind of withdrawal. But Natasha was calm, still, and she was whispering reassurances into my ear.

"Okay, break it up, you two."

My eyes shot open. The voice was crackling with noise, but I could tell it belonged to Tony Stark. I stepped away from Natasha and peered up at the screens. One of them was broadcasting a live feed from Tony's workshop. He was clutching a raw mix of cognac and leaning back into his chair. I gritted my teeth. "What are you doing here?"

Natasha sighed.

Tony, however, was complacent. "We'll get to that. Right now, let's talk about you, and… What's the word? Oh, yeah – your girlfriend. I knew something was up, but I never thought it was gonna sprout wings and take off."

I flushed, wholly aware that my face was going red. "I think you should focus less on my affairs," I growled, "and more on apologizing for what happened earlier. And why are you even talking to S.H.I.E.L.D. if you don't trust them?"

He pursed his lip. "Uh… Actually, I wanted to talk to _you_."

"About?"

"Just to apologize. You know, for earlier."

"You called S.H.I.E.L.D. just to tell me that?"

He shrugged. "_Technically,_ I hacked their mainframe using a backdoor program."

Natasha looked uncomfortable. It might have been from my demeanor, so I tried to relax some more. "Thanks. But I don't know how long I'll be here for. It could be months." But that wasn't entirely true. I'd been stressed out ever since I came aboard here, so I wouldn't stay much longer.

"Ouch, that's cold. After hearing your little tantrum about Ross, and how S.H.I.E.L.D. basically fucked you over by keeping quiet… I thought you'd be begging to come back." He let out a gusty breath and tapped his glass on the desk. "Things like that shouldn't be taken lightly, right?"

I couldn't stop a growl from rending my throat.

Tony was quiet. Natasha coaxed me away from the screen. Her hand rested on my arm, and it was warm, but it wasn't as hot as my skin. I was barely repressing a violent change. Still, my eyes were able to revert, and it quelled some of my pent-up emotions. Concurrently, a lone man stepped into the room.

It was Rick.

He was smiling, even with the tissue stuffed up his nose. And remarkably enough, his irises had become a bright shade of yellow, flickering with an alleged heartbeat of their own. "Man, did I have to pull strings to get in here," he said with a glance at me. "But–"

Tony interjected. "Who's the string bean? Buddy, if you're here for Banner, you'll have to wait. Shoo."

Rick laughed. Natasha walked over to him and studied his face. "What happened?"

He shrugged. "Aw, nothing serious." Then he turned to me. "I was running down the hall, going a little too fast, and… Well, you know how it goes. Mister Face says 'hello' to Mister Wall, and bam."

_Rick… You still respect me enough to hide the truth about your injuries? I don't deserve such esteem…_

Tony snorted. "How old are you; _three?_ Who runs down hallways like a streaker?"

Rick smiled. "People who know the importance of having fun, Mister Stark."

He leaned back into his chair and faced me again. "I like this guy. As for you and Romanoff, I'm gonna split now. There's love in the air, and it's making me feel mushy. But just a word of warning, Banner – Black Widow spiders tend to eat their mates."

Then he leaned over and tapped something. The screen disconnected with a whine of static. The room was dark now, and it made me tired – reasonably so, because it was late. "I should get some sleep."

Natasha nodded. "I'll show you to your dorm."

"Wait up, Doctor," Rick said. "Are we cool?"

I smiled. "Yeah. I'm sorry, Rick."

He tried not to look thrilled, but he was terrible at it. I turned away, following Natasha back into the main hub. There were less people now, so it was quiet enough to let my thoughts wander. I resolved to leave the ship tomorrow as we entered the first of many hallways. The lights were dim but still palpable, and our shadows flitted across the walls as we walked. The shapes were surprisingly comforting.

Along the way, I thought about Rick and how he covered up the violence in our argument. It was noble. However, it also proved that he was spineless. He didn't want any problems, but he was the cause of all the trouble that happened tonight.

_Ironic._

I stepped over a loose cable and kept walking. I never needed Rick to cover for me in the first place. I was strong enough to handle the consequences of stamping his nose in.

_Pathetic insect._

_ Treating Banner like one, too, when he isn't._

My head slowed. I instinctively rolled my shoulder and felt air currents traveling over both my skin and shirt. Subsequently, I remembered how Rick gave me this shirt because my previous one had been stained with blood. But why would he even bother? At the time, I could have managed without one.

…_He did it because he thinks Banner is weak._

A reflexive scowl tainted my face.

_Rick is toxic. Always trying to bring Banner down to his level. He's got to go._

With that, I had to stop walking. I had gotten lost among the natural currents of my head. This wasn't a new occurrence, and it would've been fine otherwise, but things had never been this dark before.

"Bruce… Is everything okay?"

Natasha was looking at me with discretion. I began sweating bullets of ice. "Sorry?"

"You're changing."

Dread cut through me. My head had released a glut of hot blood, and it was coalescing in my shoulder, the very subject of my earlier attention. I glanced at it. The skin was olive, and to my concern, it hadn't been a conscious change. I made it normalize. _What the hell just happened…?_

"Lot on your mind?"

"Maybe." No, not maybe_ –_ it was _definitely_ hard to focus. My head was in a tumult, screaming with revulsion towards Rick. Every time I tried to stop the emotions, they spun around and fastened to Natasha or Tony. "I need to leave this ship tomorrow," I said. "I'm stressed out."

She was understanding. "Okay. I'm sorry to hear that."

Warmth flashed in my eyes and my hands tightened. Her sympathy – no, _pity_ – was irksome. My reaction couldn't possibly be normal, but it still took great strength to remain neutral in my response. "I'll probably head out in the evening."

_Because I need to run some tests first_.

« • »

"That took a while," I told her. "Were you two canoodling or something?"

The assassin crossed her arms, shifted her weight, and stepped closer to the camera. She was barely visible in the crappy lighting. "I showed him his dorm, then he sent me away. And…" She sighed. "You might have missed your chance tonight, Stark.

"You're seriously calling _that _a chance?"

"Every time you see him is a chance. I know Bruce was capricious tonight, but you went through so much trouble to contact him."

"So? He was already screaming Bloody Mary at you and Fury_. _I wasn't about to go on the skewer, too."

"I know it would've hurt to tell him then. But you said it yourself… The longer you wait, the worse it will get." Then she stared at the clock on the wall. "Start counting your blessings, Stark… Because it's going to kill you when the lies finally come crashing down."


	19. Broken

_WARNING: Double whammy! Bruce + Rick whump ahead! Sorry in advance! __(/ﾟДﾟ)/ _

**XIX.  
Broken**

* * *

The next morning was a challenge. Upon waking, I shivered and pulled the blankets over my head with a groan. A mass of cold air was banishing the warmth of my dreams. I dragged myself out of bed and checked the thermostat. The reading spooked me.

_Seventy-two? Room temperature? That makes no sense._

But it wasn't important. There were other things to worry about. I went straight to the lab.

The lab was my favourite room on the carrier, and right now, it provided solace and materials for conducting tests. I had to find out what happened yesterday. I pulled out some hypodermic needles, microscopes, and mixing apparatus, and placed them on the counter. The sun shone through the windows and stirred the glass into a rainbow soup of color.

I started prepping for a blood draw. Without warning, a tall brunette entered the lab and walked toward me. She crossed her arms in a dismissive manner. "So, you're Doctor Banner?"

Annoyance hissed in my bones. "Yeah. You are…?"

"Agent Hill. Your flight's leaving at eight-thirty tonight."

"Thanks."

She looked at the mound of glassware. "Cleaning out the cabinets, I see. Have fun – if that's even possible with a blood draw – but try not to make a mess. That goes for spills _and_ big gaping holes in the walls. Got it?"

"You have my word." _And watch your goddamn mouth with the Hulk references._

"Good. We'll talk again."

Then she was gone. Theorizing that my mood swings were triggered by human company, I pulled a syringe from its plastic wrapper and drew some blood from my inner elbow. Next, I switched needles and removed my shirt, allowing the gamma to capture my arm. I tried to sample some changed blood, but there was a problem – the needle wouldn't break the skin. I started again, changing after the needle was already in.

_Perfect._

The tests finally began. They continued for a few hours, but I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. It was crushing. I gave up, deciding to take a break and put the issue on the backburner until later. The day became casual, unsullied by interactions that would worsen the darkness in my head. I tested the general properties of my blood and learned more about Tony's cure.

His serum had augmented the part of my brain that held the radiation – namely, the amygdala. It was no longer ruled by spontaneous movements. Instead, it remained quiet until I flexed it like a muscle.

_And this is definitely permanent._

There was something else on my mind – I wondered if it was possible to make a serum that could replicate my abilities. Ross had tried to do this, in vain, for years. Still, although he was dead, it felt like his mission still had to bear fruit. And admittedly, I was curious to see if such a compound was possible. Tony's cure would ensure the recipient had total control over their changes, too. I began measuring things out.

Time passed. The results were promising.

I held up the final serum. It shone with a stunning mix of bright red pigments, chemicals, and strands of genetic material. It would never be used, but it did tie up a loose end where Ross was concerned.

I put it in my pocket, resolving to conduct more tests regarding my emotional problems.

« • »

Later into my experiments, Natasha appeared with a tray of food. "You missed lunch."

Her presence triggered a swarm of dark emotions, but I faked a smile and observed the tray. It contained some meat pasta, an apple pie, and a bottle of water. My stomach growled. "Yeah… I've been here all morning. I haven't been able to test my blood since Tony cured me."

"Ah." She pulled up a chair and leaned into the counter. "Mind if I stick around?"

My gaze traveled to the apparatus. She couldn't stay, because she was provoking the darkness in my head. I gripped a syringe and emptied the blood into the sink. It was a terrible way to dispose of it, but I didn't care. "You have to leave."

She was surprised. "Did I say something…?"

"Do you need a thousand reasons? Get the fuck out of here."

She left, and I stood there with a passing feeling of anger. Then, as soon as I realized what happened, my head started to hurt. The temperature in the room dropped and pulled goosebumps over my skin. I tried to warm up by changing my eyes.

It didn't help.

As if things couldn't get any worse, my claustrophobia returned. The lab was shrinking on me. I gripped my head and leaned into the counter, which seemed to be rocking back and forth. These physical symptoms were horrifying. What if they were somehow connected to my emotional ones?

_ …What if they're a side effect of Tony's cure?_

Panic gripped me, erasing my headache and prompting me to try more experiments. They were fruitless. Each passing minute only stressed me out more. The sun gradually went down, staining the skies with rotten blood.

After a while, I checked the clock.

It was time to go. I didn't find answers today, but my trials would continue at Stark Tower. I took a deep breath, prayed there wouldn't be any problems down at the wishbone sector, and left the laboratory. When I arrived at the sector, the sky was almost black, and the clouds were streaked with red. My breath caught in my chest. The air was sweet. Smoky. It reeked of jet fuel. It wasn't this bad before–

"You ready, Bruce?"

_Natasha. _I spun around and saw her walking towards me. She didn't look upset about earlier, but she probably wasn't going to fly me back – she looked tired. My thoughts were blithe now, so I jumped at the opportunity. "Yeah. I'm sorry about earlier… And I'm sorry for leaving. If I don't see you again…"

She smiled and gave me a hug. Warmth drifted over me, then she spoke with a soothing sweetness. "It's okay. You've been through a lot lately. And trust me, I'm not glued to this ship. You'll see me again."

I tried not to choke on assurance. "I'm glad. Who's the pilot tonight?"

"Guess."

I didn't even see it coming. A pair of hands slammed down onto my shoulders. I yelled in surprise and tried to catch my breath as the culprit stepped in front of me. I should have known. "Rick, you son of a bitch."

"And proud of it! Anyways, let's rock and roll. I could say we're burning daylight, but the daylight's already gone, so…" He pointed to a Quinjet in the corner of the sector. "There's our ride."

I made eye contact with Natasha. "I'll see you soon."

"Sooner than you think."

Rick groaned. "Don't get sappy, guys."

Then he walked into the purring Quinjet and sat down in the pilot seat. He brought the engines to a low growl. As they sounded, the posterior rocket lit up with hot crimson. I entered the jet, and the ramp closed behind me. "You've flown one of these before, right?"

"Plenty of times," he said. "Don't worry – we won't crash!"

The Quinjet separated from the carrier and barreled down into the atmosphere. It flew through the clouds with a faint humming noise. Rick eventually turned on autopilot and joined me in the back. "Hey, how are you holding up? And no, there aren't any in-flight snacks – this isn't United Airlines."

I searched my head for problems. Nothing. "I'm doing well. And Rick… I need to thank you for not telling anyone about…"

He beamed. "My pleasure. Besides, I'm all better now. No more broken nose."

"Wow. You heal fast?"

"Exactamundo!"

I felt the plane lowering. The ride became more turbulent, so we were probably passing through clouds. I cupped my hands together and brought them to my face. They were cold. "I shouldn't have hit you."

He shrugged. "Big deal. I deserved it. Oh, did you ever get the answers you were looking for?"

"Some of them, but Natasha didn't give me any names."

"That blows."

I suppressed a chill. "Who were they?"

He crossed his arms. "Sorry, Doc… Fury will come down on me like a ton of bricks if I say anything else. But it won't matter much in time, right? It's not the end of the world."

Pain lanced through my skull. I clutched my head and pulled in a breath between my teeth.

"…Doc?"

The walls of the Quinjet began to shudder. My stomach filled up with a sickening sludge. It crawled up into my throat, which shut like a fly trap, then heat began to creep into me. It felt good_. _It dissolved the sludge and surrounded my arm, spurring a change that seeped from bone to muscle to skin. The new shape tightened into a fist. "Don't tell me it's 'not the end of the world'."

He was unnerved. "Sorry. But why are you changing?"

Derision filled my blood. I stood up and glowered at Rick, beginning to pace around him. He raised his hands and took a step back. "Doc, I really don't like the way you're looking at me… The arm thing's a little scary. Let's not have another fight, yeah?"

I looked at the monstrous form of my hand, felt the anger inside of me. _Oh, no._

And then, without warning, something snapped. My head grew tight and began to scorch. This wasn't warmth – this was blistering, and searing, and agonizing. I gasped and fell to my knees. "_Rick!_"

"Doctor? What's going on? Talk to me!"

I couldn't answer him. My mouth wouldn't work anymore. All I could hear was a blackened voice ringing in my ears. It was incoherent, but it was so harsh, and loud, and it was saying the most tempting of–

"Bruce! Say something!"

"It hurts," I cried.

He put his hands on my shoulders. "Where? Where does it hurt?"

I convulsed in pain. Then all emotions – all _feeling_ – left me. Rick was hoping for this. He wanted a reason to call me weak and prop himself up in the process. I wouldn't let this happen. His place was either under Banner, or under the ground, and it was time for him to learn his lesson. I grabbed his arm.

"Ow! Let go, Bruce!"

I threw him into the floor. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

My hand was already at his throat.

"Banner's not weak," I spat. "He's the strongest one there is. You can't take that away from him!"

The victim grasped at my arm and tried to speak. It was riotous to watch. I pushed him further into the floor, applied more pressure to his throat which was tenaciously hard to crush, dug in my fingernails until he was bleeding…

His face contorted. "You're– not weak!"

"That's not what you said earlier."

"Please–! I'm your friend!"

"I'm no one's friend."

With a rush of hot blood, the darkness in my head took over my pity. The change in my arm grew, tearing my shirt and compelling me to snarl. I tightened my grip on his neck and relished the feel of cartilage, his tortured expression. I growled again. _Come on, you bastard! Admit to your lies!_

But he never did. He stopped struggling and closed his eyes.

Disappointment filled my brain. _No,_ I growled inwardly. My grip tightened even more and I pulled him closer until he was inches away from my face. "We're not done here, Jones!"

He didn't move.

It didn't take long to come down from my delirium. By the time it happened, though, it was too late. The lasso of my hand released itself. Rick's neck was black and bruised, etched with deep engravings from a monstrous palm. Blood pooled in tiny threads under his skin. I felt sick.

"Oh, god."

I looked at the hand that slew my friend.

_ Rick… I'm so sorry._

It wasn't long before I felt another stir of anger, and the very kind that killed Rick. Stressed beyond repair, I tried not to weep, but it was hard to stay composed. Gloom began to spread across my vision, darkening it, asking me why Rick's death was so upsetting.

"He was my friend."

For some reason, the answer didn't sit well with me. Something brought me to my feet and triggered a spark of disgust. Rick did deserve to die. And now, it was time to dispose of the evidence. I stepped over his body and arrived at the control center. It was brimming with switches and command modules, but I wouldn't use any of them.

I would destroy them. The plane would fall from the sky.

Letting out a growl, I made the gamma radiation stretch into my upper back. The change gave me enough power to drive my fist into the command board. Panels curled up like paper. Alarms sounded. I grabbed the metal innards and ripped them out, fully absorbed in my duties–

The plane shook.

Lucidity came back to me. I gasped in horror, realizing that the plane was thousands of feet above the ground – and it was going to crash with me onboard. Red began to flash from the ceiling, spinning around. The plane entered a nose dive.

Gravity shifted. Shards of metal began flying through the air. I toppled over, breaking my fall using the very arm that had killed Rick. I grasped a seatbelt that was suspended in the air and tried pulling myself up. The belt broke clean off, so I dug my hand into the floor and started to crawl.

Back at the control center, wires were beginning to spark in preparation to ignite. I had to get out of here, and the back ramp was my only option.

Amidst the epileptic chaos in my vision, I found the lever and pulled on it. The ramp flew open. The inside of the plane was overcome by screaming winds, far more powerfully than I'd anticipated, and the suction pulled me straight out into the night. Uncontrolled, I began to fall.

_Shit!_

I yelled and tried to maintain control of my movements, but it was fruitless. I was afraid to change more, afraid of the darkness in my head, so now, I was praying the partial change would be enough. In the next moment, I saw the ground swivel across my field of vision. There was grass, and road, and blacktop. And then, my back hit the pavement with a loud _crack_.

A thin strand of pain lanced through me. When it dissolved, there was only numbness.

I couldn't feel below my neck.

My head fell to the side. Through watery eyes, I watched as the plane crashed in the distance with a spurt of mud and earth. Sparks flew. Then, as electricity met oil, the jet exploded.

Newborn flames lapped up the air, blue and white, feeding on the fuel that spilled from razed tanks like blood. Smoke smothered the moon with nocturne. My vision – half-ground and half-sky, brightened by a burning jet – flickered. Emotionally consumed by the cyclone of heat and fire, I almost forgot that my condition came with a vital ability.

_The healing._

It swept over me, sewing the seams of my broken spine together. My body contracted in pain. It would heal me, but it wouldn't heal Rick, and it wouldn't stop the darkness that I thought was gone for good. And this time, it wasn't the Hulk that killed someone – it was me.

_What have you done, Banner?_

I began to cry.


	20. Ugly Side

_WARNING: More Bruce whumpage! ;u;_

**XX.  
Ugly Side**

* * *

I finally stopped healing. I wasn't out of the woods yet, though.

The pavement around me was cold and broken, curling up like a dead spider. My body was sore, barring a single changed arm that was still swelling with hot blood. The serum in my pocket was unharmed – there was no broken glass pressing against my leg – but this hardly mattered.

_…I killed him._

Birds keened in the distance, finally compelling me to sit up. The air smelled like ash and fire, reminding me of what I had done. My life had been compromised. I couldn't go back to Stark Tower. I couldn't even go near people. _Because every time I do, someone gets hurt._

The sound of electric whirring took over my ears, and a gust of cool air breathed down on me. The night sky was overcome by a blinding light, almost like the moon was falling to earth, but then the glow shrank into the repulsors of a red and gold suit.

It was Tony Stark. He knelt down, then his helmet clinked open. "There you are."

I swallowed my apprehension. "How did you find me?"

"Well…" He took my unchanged hand and pulled me to my feet. "I knew you were coming back today, so I decided to check out Manhattan airspace. When your ride suddenly took a vay-cay off the map, I was–

"You were spying on me?"

"Since when does watching airspace qualify as 'spying'? Do me a favor and stop asking questions." He stood there and watched as my arm reverted, his gaze troubled. "Are you hurt? Fazed? Give me something."

I closed my eyes.

"Silent treatment, huh? Fine. At least say what happened to your chauffeur."

"He's dead."

He pursed his lip. "I'm sorry. But planes crash, Banner, and I'm sure it wasn't your fault."

_But it was. _He was already making assumptions about the crash. I didn't want to scare him by telling the truth, so I looked out into the night. City lights were glowing in the distance, but they were far away – and they weren't ready for someone like me. Even now.

"Let's get you home, okay?"

"Tony… No."

But once my answer came out, I began to feel dizzy. Weak. The moon and sky spun around me like a tempest. Desperation was pointless, because my head grew fainter until I finally fell to the ground and blacked out. Against my unspoken wishes, Tony carried me back toward the city.

« • »

There was ice dripping down my head – no, water.

It was from a cold compress. I took it off my forehead and gave a heaving stretch. I was sprawled on a couch, and the lights in the room were dim and pale, casting a reddish patina onto the modern walls and tile. I heard something bubbling on a stovetop. I was back at Stark Tower.

This was bad. Dangerous. I had to get out of here before–

"Rise and shine, Doc."

_Shit._

"You might want to keep that ice on," the engineer said. He walked over to the couch and sat down, popping the tab on a can of soda. "You're running one hell of a fever… Not like that's surprising, though. Heck, a crash would put _me_ out of the job for a week."

I swallowed and pulled myself into a sitting position. "How long was I out?"

"It's ten in the morning. Do the math."

_Long enough_. I had to walk away before someone got hurt. The couch was warm, and right when I stood up, my blood became glacial. The drop in temperature was much steeper than it should have been. Slightly unnerved, I started walking around him without another word.

"Hold up," he said, raising his drink. "What's the big deal? Do I smell funny? Come back here."

"No," I said quietly. "There's some things on my mind. I have to leave."

"What do you mean, 'things'? What's going on?"

Anger bit me. "It doesn't concern you."

"Just spill," he spurned.

I faced him and tried to relax, but the walls of the room were beginning to ripple. They pulsed in time with my heart. It killed my composure. "You don't run my life, Stark! You always harass me into telling you things, and it's humiliating!"

He was shocked. "Well, I'm sorry to offend you and your big green ego!"

"You should be!"

He blinked, preparing to speak, but he was stopped by the sound of approaching heels. It was Pepper. She came around with a pleasant smile and stood beside him, totally clueless about our disagreement. "It's good to see you're awake, Bruce! How are you doing? Tony said you had quite the accident."

"Shut it."

She was silenced. Tony kept going, though. "Banner, you're practically the poster boy for hissy fits."

Pepper stepped closer to him. "It's time to stop, Tony."

"Stay out of this, Pep."

"Fair enough, but don't throw stones at him. You're upsetting him."

"Why am I on the hook here? He's being the jackass, not me."

I blinked and rubbed the ice from my eyes. This was my chance to leave, so I turned around and headed straight for the elevator. But each step grew more and more painful, steeped in the sensation of cracking limbs and frozen skin. It became harder to move. And harder.

I finally had to stop.

The air was thinning. The lights were dimming. I couldn't breathe. My bearings were turning to dust, icing over, and a familiar sense of restriction was starting to kick in. It quickly degenerated into something worse. I buckled down when heat flashed in my hand, coating it with green that ran up into my shoulders and face. Then there was pain. I gave a desperate outcry.

Pepper's voice knelled in my ear. "Bruce!"

"Get back, Pepper," Tony said.

Their words were wisps to me. There was so much pain in my upper body. I wanted to get up and leave, but something was crippling me. I choked out one last word. "Run!"

Pepper backed away and took Tony's hand. He stood there for another moment, then they quickly stepped into the elevator and left me alone. It was for the better. My muscles were tensing and curling with fire that brought me into a powerful spasm. Green blood surged through my other arm and tried to crawl down my spine. I cried in dissent and started backing up, but then I struck the wall. Rubble crashed down on me.

I shut my eyes, hoping Tony and Pepper's absence would help at last. It didn't.

_…Banner, listen to me._

There was a voice in my head. It was like the one that used to haunt me, but this time, it was more than just a mass of cryptic compulsions. It was clear. Intelligible. It had grown into a separate persona. "No!"

_Let me out. You're better than this._

I struggled against the enemy in my head, but it didn't stop the steady conversions in my body. My pleas became menacing as hot blood crammed into my throat and razed my vocal cords. "Why should I?"

_You're not supposed to be this weak. I can help._

"You can't help," I choked out, collapsing under my changing weight. I crouched there, fighting the slow change until the shadow of a stranger crept into my vision. Then their feet appeared. I growled in distress. "Tony…"

"I'm here, Doc. I'm giving you a little sedative, okay?"

Something tried to puncture my arm. I looked at him and stood up as another change tore through me. It was hard to keep my balance. There was no equilibrium. I snarled when he tried to stick me again. "Get back! He doesn't need it!"

He pulled the needle away. "It's just a pinch, Banner. No bells or whistles."

"You're not talking to Banner," I countered. "You're talking to the other guy."

He froze.

I growled in pain when another wave of hot blood spilled into my system. The pain meant that Banner was still fighting the change – it would be so much easier if he just let it happen – but that wasn't the case. At least he was locked away for now. I looked down at the ruins of his shirt and tore them away.

"Doctor…"

"The title has a nice ring to it," I answered, relaxing slightly for Stark's convenience. Perhaps he wasn't so bad. "Pity Banner doesn't live up to it. He couldn't even kill that lying bastard, Rick. I had to do it myself."

"Rick?" He was confused, but it only lasted for a moment. He backed away. "No! No! You didn't, Doc!"

My lip twitched in agitation. "You're defending him? I thought you were honorable, Stark."

The man was horrified by the allegation. Spurred by suspicion, I growled and stepped closer to him. "You don't have to be afraid of me, not like Jones was. But the way you're behaving… It makes me wonder if you're just like him."

Then Banner started to complain again. _Please!_

I ignored him. I was trying to protect him from Stark, and he needed to understand this. The distance between me and my quarry crumbled. I grabbed Stark by the collar, stealing his needle and crushing it in my palm. His fear was disgusting. Revealing. "You're a liar too… Aren't you, Stark?"

"Put him down, Bruce!"

My eyes caught a woman with strawberry blonde hair. She was hostile, but she couldn't hurt me. I turned to Stark again, and with one movement, I threw him against the couch. I sank into a charging stance and prepared to–

_No! I won't let you do this!_

I finally took back the reins. I curled my fists and dropped to the floor, thwarting the creature inside of me, using all my power to reverse the incomplete transformation. Much to my dismay, the green wouldn't drain from my right arm, but that was the least of my worries. I forced the darkness out of me, and once it was quelled, I quickly got to my feet. Pepper was helping Tony up. He didn't take his eyes off me.

Then he spoke. "Get out of here, Banner."

"Please," I begged. "Don't do this. I just need somewhere to stay while I figure this out…"

He scowled. "I'm sorry, what were you saying five minutes ago before you threw me into the sofa? You need somewhere to sleep? Get a bench!" Contrite suddenly filled his eyes. "Now get moving before you kill someone else!"

"Tony," Pepper whispered.

I grew cold again. It wasn't physical, though – it was the darkest of anguish. Tony was the first person to see me as a human being, but now, it was the opposite. I heard the Hulk screaming for release, saying it could end the hurt and the rejection. It could end Tony. The prospect was so appealing…

Because without Tony's support, I was nothing but a monster.

And if he wouldn't give me another chance… He had no other purpose.

A band of fire cascaded down my spine, sending pins and needles into my human form. It was refreshing, but there were no further changes. There was only a new sense of purpose within me, and it told me to kill Stark. People like him had no place in this world. The Hulk stirred in consolation.

_Nothing will hurt after this, _it promised.

I looked at the stove behind me. There was a huge pot simmering with hot oil. Stark was all grandeur, and he would have a fitting exit. He slowly started walking around me, Pepper tailing him. Reflexively, my right arm heaved into its maximum form, changing much of my torso as well, and I ran toward the sink.

I smashed my fist across the taps with tremendous force. The metal split. Water sprayed from the pipes and the pieces scattered over the floor like dead flies, their symphony wailing in my ears. I placed my hand over the water. It was cool, reactive, and dangerous – the final piece of the puzzle.

Tony's eyes widened. "No, Bruce!"

Then he started running. Pepper copied him, but they wouldn't make it in time. With a growl that stretched across the room, I picked up the pot and allowed the Hulk to pull the strings. It brought me away from the sink. The tendons in my transformed hand loosened in preparation. And then, in the next moment, we pitched the burning oil straight into the geyser.

_Nothing will hurt now._

There was a flash of fire, blood, and bone. It was blinding, whirling into a screen of flame, and I covered my face in protection from the heat. But once it stopped, leaving the carcass of a room and the howling of an alarm, I roared in outrage.

The elevator door was closed. They were gone. Alive.

But the anger didn't last – I was finally coming back to lucidity. It came with a price. There was shame and repulsion from the fact that I had almost killed Tony. I had no reason to end his life, no matter how much his dismissal hurt me. I couldn't possibly stay here now, not even to find a solution, because no one was safe. The lines were beginning to blur.

I was hopeless. Helpless.

Then something came to me – I had been right next to the blast, and a single green arm barely rendered me invincible. With a shudder that felt like nothing, I looked down at the remnants of my human self.

My body was charred, hollow, and dripping with red. The pain slowly emerged.

It hurt like nothing ever had before.

* * *

_**And it's all downhill from here... What you guys think will happen next? :o Please leave a review!**_


	21. Downward Spiral

**XXI.  
Downward Spiral**

* * *

_Everything…_

I was crouching on a nearby rooftop, my shape hidden by the smoky atmosphere.

Stark Tower was burning right before my eyes. It crackled as electricity warred with monstrous flames. The fire rose into the sky, red and black, and the two colors clashed with glaring antipathy. Fire trucks and police cars lined the street like ants. Sirens blared and ladders stretched into a place that seemed higher than the stratosphere.

_Everything is ruined._

I was almost fully healed. However, my left arm had been severely burned, and it was taking its time to recuperate. I cradled it in my lap and nursed it with careful beats of gamma, but my flesh kept peeling off. Bones gleamed through the blood, and the smell made me sick to my stomach. The screaming winds that passed over it didn't help. There were other problems, though.

My other arm was still changed, and it wouldn't revert. It was probably still being governed by the Hulk.

At least there was no voice anymore.

My hands were bloodied, so I wiped them on my pants when the healing finished. I retrieved the tiny amount of gamma I had offered the site and checked the status of my right arm. It still wouldn't change back. Sighing, I looked at Stark Tower. The flames were finally retreating under massive sprays of water.

It was time to leave.

There was no other choice, because my connection with the Hulk was only getting worse. I used to believe the Hulk was just a raw version of myself, in mind and body, but now everything was changing – and not for the better. The Hulk was demonstrating its own intellect, splitting us in two and winning the war for dominance in the process.

_ And one day, if a cure never comes through for me… I may disappear altogether._

I got up and headed out.

« • »

It was an absolute zoo here. Red lights and sirens were scattered throughout the street, and yellow tape was cutting off access to my building. Funny, because this was one of those times where I wanted to be left alone. I was sweating like a Thanksgiving turkey, and I'd almost been cooked like one–

"Mister Stark, can you work with me here?"

The policeman just wouldn't quit. I tightened my grip on Pepper's hand. I couldn't tell the officer what happened, because there was nothing to say. _Oh, yeah... My friend has this thing where he blows up five times his size and kills everyone in sight. I gave him control, but he just tried to kill me again. Can you help, officer?_

"Sweetie, say something," Pepper begged.

I opened my mouth. It wouldn't work. The officer crossed his arms and stepped closer to me. "Stark, the sooner you cooperate, the sooner we all go home."

"I don't have a home anymore!" I snapped, gesturing to the rotten shell of my Tower. "And…"

Pepper huddled closer to me. "Tony, it's okay."

I shook my head. "This is all my fault."

The policeman was confused, but it didn't matter – Jarvis had prepped the Mark VII suit, and it was ready to get me out of here. There was a loud roar. A metal pod shot out from the broken balcony and fell toward me, configuring its aim with blips of red and white until it locked onto my body. The suit surrounded me like a cocoon, a metal barrier.

Pepper looked at me in surprise. She didn't get a chance to speak, though. I put my arms around her and we took off, the suit propelling us into the sky. The air was full of smoke and grit that tapped against my helmet.

We landed on the rooftop of a nearby building. It smelled funny, almost like blood–

"Tony, let go of me!"

I blinked and released the woman in my arms. She tried to catch her breath, stepping away and almost tripping over her heels in the process. Her eyes were anxious in the gloom. "What is wrong with you?!"

"Pepper, when you yell like that, it's really hard to express myself in a–"

"Then don't manhandle me!"

"Okay, alright," I retorted. "You got me."

She brushed a stray hair away from her face. "Please just tell me what's happening to Bruce."

The sirens and gusts of water became more audible. I tried to shut them out, but they wouldn't ease away. Guilt was crawling out of me. "This is all my fault, Pep… All of this. I shouldn't have rushed the cure…"

She was shocked. "How long did you take?"

"One night. After Banner left, I had a couple drinks, and…" This admission was going to suck something nasty. I swallowed. "I wrote some algorithms and ran them without double-checking, okay?"

"Oh, Tony."

I grew frantic. "What else was I supposed to do?!" _Because he was so upset when he left that night… _

Pepper walked closer to the edge and crossed her arms. She gazed across the cityscape. Her shape was lit by the dying fire in the distance. "It doesn't matter now. Bruce just tried to _kill_ us, and that couldn't possibly have been him…" She sighed. "Why didn't you just take your time with the cure?"

"You'll think I'm such a monster if I tell you."

"Imagine what Bruce must feel like right now."

I swallowed. "But at least he's not a coward, Pep. He's brave… He's lived with the Hulk for eight years, and he never broke down. Me, though… What have I got to prove? I'm just a man in a can."

"Find something to prove."

"And how am I supposed to do that, huh?"

"You could start by doing the right thing," she said. "Tell me what's going on."

"I can't, Pepper…"

She was quiet. I didn't say anything either, and the silence brought me close to breaking down. Banner's life was already wrecked, and my stupid serum had just made things worse. This was all my fault. All because I spent one night creating a rush-job panacea for him.

_ To make me feel better about–_

My throat closed up.

_ …God. I've been running from the truth, trying to hide… But I can't do this anymore._

"Tony, just tell me, and it'll be over."

Apprehension swelled inside me. Guilt joined it, building up from countless lies and the consequences that were bearing fruit now. I didn't want to tell Pepper about what I'd done, because she would hate my guts for it, but I had to face this. I had to start somewhere.

"Tony?"

I started crying. Damned if it wasn't justified, though. "Pepper, please just hear me out…"

« • »

Everyone has their darkest hour, a time when everything seems grim.

Forget my night in the Arctic – _this _was my hour.

Rick was dead, and I couldn't go back to Tony. I couldn't go near anyone. I had to solve this on my own. The day was withering away and succumbing to dark skies that promised rain. I wiped the mist from my eyes and looked to my right. There was a familiar bed of flowers.

They were still marked with dandelions, but the seeds had since filled the air, no doubt crippling other gardens. I looked at my right arm. It was still in a transformed limbo. I slowly curled my hand into a fist, feeling the hard texture of skin and the muscle beneath it. Suddenly paranoid about witnesses, I decided to keep going.

The cityscape disappeared in a matter of hours. It became quieter, with nothing but a lonely road that yearned for passing cars. The sky had long sunk into a starless night, and the moon was hiding behind a mass of clouds. It was probably well past midnight. My feet were numb with pain.

I kept walking.

Eventually, the sun began to rise. It dappled the lowest clouds with tangerine, and the brilliance of it was enough to make me stop and marvel, but the moment didn't last. There was too much on my mind. There was nothing around me but grass and a road, and the colors were nothing more than black and white and loneliness.

But then, to my utter astonishment, there was a distant sound of whirring.

I glanced up at the sky. It was mostly black, but a single light was coming towards me. I knew what it was, but much to my surprise, the Hulk remained quiet. I could feel its hatred towards Tony Stark, and I thought it would react to his presence, but perhaps the change in my arm was enough to satisfy it for now – and curb its governance.

Tony finally landed. His armor calmed into silence. "Doc," he whispered. "Is that you?"

"Yeah. It's me."

He gave a sigh and pulled up his faceplate. He was apologetic, and his eyes were red. "Sorry… Just making sure. It's getting harder to tell you and the other guy apart. But right now, Banner… I need to talk to _you_."

I took a step back. "Tony, I don't want to hurt you…"

"Shut up, Banner." His voice was wearied. "I'm in a suit. And if you're thinking of running away, forget it. I'm faster than you. You could change and get a nice boost, but with the exception of your Franken-arm there, I know you're not gonna turn after what happened at the digs. For the record, no hard feelings about that–"

"Why are you here, Tony…?"

He paused before answering. "Banner, let me start by saying I'm scared shitless about being here. I considered avoiding you at least a dozen times. But I had to see you. I know this is all my fault. It's my serum that's making you…" He looked at the ground for a moment. "Lose control. Ironic as it seems."

"'Lose control'?" A twinge of anger bit me. "That's all? I _killed_ someone, Stark! And worse yet, the Hulk's become sentient! It's trying to take control of my body! Is that what your cure was supposed to do?"

"No!"

"Then why is it destroying everything?"

"Because I rushed it!" he shot back.

I stared at him. "What…? Why?"

He put his hand to his mouth and swallowed. "Banner… When you first saw Ross on the news, you were miserable. I didn't know about Elizabeth and how she killed herself, or how you wanted to apologize to Ross for it… I only knew that you were upset about his death. You needed some serious cheering up. What better way than a cure, right?"

"But why didn't you just take your time on it, and find me once it was more stable?"

He crossed his arms. "I was desperate, Banner… _Desperate_. And I don't throw that word around often."

"In what way?"

"I had to apologize."

"Wait; it was an apology?"

He nodded and broke eye contact with me.

"For what?"

The billionaire was hesitant. His eyes became red, glazing over, and he stared into space like he was being haunted by dark memories. He held his breath and looked at the ground. "You were upset about Ross's death. I felt responsible, because…"

Nothing clicked for me at first. But when it finally did, I was horrified. "No… Don't say it. Please."

He nodded. There was immense regret in his eyes. "I killed him, Banner… I killed Ross."

* * *

**_Hi guys! I hope you've had a great week. I'd just like to update you on some stuff that's going on IRL. I'm moving to Vancouver in early October, so I won't have a lot of spare time in these next couple weeks because I'll be packing and stuff. New chapters will be rather... Erratic in terms of when they're posted. Updates might remain this way once I'm in school, but I'll still aim for the once-a-week type deal! I'll keep you posted! -Demi_**


	22. Everything Changes

**XXII.  
Everything Changes**

* * *

_I knew he was a liar! And did you listen, Banner?_

The Hulk was conscious again, hungry for blood and the destruction of the man in front of me. I was shocked by Tony's admission, but I had to stay composed. I clenched my fists and looked at the ground. My changed arm began to heat up even more. "Please, give him a chance to explain."

_He's had enough chances!_

"I'm asking for five minutes," I whispered. "If your intentions are good, just…"

The voice growled. _You have five minutes to change my mind, Banner._

He clearly needed a reason to castigate Tony, so maybe there was still a chance to stop this. I took a breath and regained eye contact with Tony. He was working himself up into a fever and barely holding my gaze. I swallowed. "Tony, you've hid the truth all this time…"

His eyes were wary, brown and amber, in the young morning sun. "I'm sorry. Honestly, Doc."

"Tell me what happened."

He sighed, his armor heaving in one smooth motion. "Ross and I… We have a history. After your accident, he came to me and asked for specialized weapons. Tanks. Ultrasonics. Stuff like that. I asked what he was going to use them for, but he said it was 'classified'. He threw a lot money on the table, though, so…"

I gaped. "You didn't know what you were making them for?"

He paced around in the grass. "Don't go there, Banner! I know it was a mistake! Anyways, the Hulk started appearing on the news, and he was going toe-to-toe with my weapons. I didn't think this was a problem. I thought the Hulk was a threat. A monster."

"And?"

"That went on for a few years. After returning from captivity in Afghanistan, I decided to stop making weapons. I went to Ross with the intention of terminating the contract." He sighed and shook his head. "But he sweetened the pot with more money. I put the contract on legal hold but continued it under the table, away from Pepper's attention."

_Coward,_ sneered the Hulk.

"Then I met you," he continued. "My perspective changed. I couldn't deal with Ross anymore. When we got back from the carrier that night, once you were asleep, I went to see him in a prototype stealth suit. The Mark VII was too noisy, and it would've woken the whole neighborhood."

_The black helmet on his desk,_ I remembered. _That must have been from the suit._

"Things went downhill when we started talking. I thought he would take the cancellation like a good business partner, but he went crazy. Banner, there was liquor on his breath… And the next thing I knew, there was a gun at my head! I had to protect myself, and I couldn't let him keep chasing you around!" The look on his face was harrowing. "Please don't think badly–"

"So," I interrupted him. "That story about the nuke… How S.H.I.E.L.D. made a deal with the FBI to keep you out of prison, and how you couldn't have any more government contracts… The problem wasn't really the nuke. It's because you killed Ross."

He nodded.

"So you cured me because of my reaction to Ross' death."

"Yeah."

"But I never even knew it was an apology. You gave me a totally different reason for being there… You said I wanted myself back. Only _you_ knew about Ross, so it only solved the problem on your end. Why did you even bother?"

The engineer was quiet.

Reasons brewed in my skull, and none of them were good. The Hulk nodded and drew forward, awaiting its chance. Tony didn't answer, so I spoke for him. "You had to make the guilt go away, cheer me up, even if it meant hiding the truth from me."

"N-no," he stammered. "That's not it–"

"You only cared about your own ego," I whispered. "I was a tool to make yourself feel better."

"_What?! _You're not a tool! You're a friend, Banner!"

I looked at the ground. It was black and steeped with veins of orange. My throat closed up. "You never thought I needed a cure… You've always thought the Hulk was a blessing. After all, you don't know what it's like to be me. Your terrible privilege doesn't kill people. Tony, you just cured me to clear your conscience."

He stepped closer. "I'm sorry, okay? I screwed up!"

My head flushed, and I held back tears. "The Hulk was right. You're nothing but a liar." _A coward._

He gasped. "No!"

"You should've died in that fire."

"Stop! This isn't you! You can't let it mess with your head!"

I stopped and held my breath. _Oh no. Is that what's happening…?_

It didn't matter, though. The Hulk was moving, and my body was constricting. It became so tense that I couldn't stay standing. I sank to my knees. The grass was cool on my hands and wet on my skin.

_You're out of time, Banner._

"No," I hissed through gritted teeth. "Tony's right; you're messing with my head! I won't let you do this!" With tremendous willpower, I looked up at Tony. "Get out of here! You have the suit… Use the goddamn suit!"

"No!" he said. "I'm not going anywhere. You need help!"

"He's going to kill you, Tony! He's–"

Nothing else came out. Darkness wrapped around my head. I shut my eyes and prepared myself for the coming transformation, and it didn't take long to begin. My breath escaped as heat flooded into my entire body, driving nails under my skin and forcing me to constrict in pain. Tony was backing away from me, but he didn't leave. The Hulk whispered into my ear.

_Kill him._

Then the real changes began.

I was being burned alive. The pain stretched into my bones, nerves, and muscles, and my sight flickered between haze and intense clarity. Tony was still here, and his face was growing fearful. _Get away, Tony! Please–_

_No, Banner. Not this time. This ends now._

Something snapped inside of me. Bloodlust filled my brain, and I couldn't stop it. The darkness in my heart – _our_ heart – grew until all I could see was a wash of red, dripping down and mottling everything in sight. Odium and rage spilled into my system. It forced me to snarl.

I looked up at Stark. He backed away, and his suit powered up. He wouldn't get far. Another growl bred in my throat, and this time, it was all my doing. Banner couldn't stop me. He couldn't stop the change.

It was already complete.

Then Stark took off.

I drove forward and grabbed him by the helmet, slamming him back down into the ground. He scrambled for safety, but I took hold of his arm and pushed it down. Metal crumpled beneath my palm. He cried out. It was perfect. And in just another moment, Banner would cease to exist entirely. He was fading–

But a gasket blew in the final step of the transformation. As if all my rage had been uncorked, flowing like blood from a wound, the emotions vanished. They left me with a frozen snarl and a feeling of shock. Banner was back.

_I _was back.

There was no presence anymore. No voice. There was only silence, a comfortable warmth in my blood, and emotions that echoed the most powerful of rage – but they were fading quickly. And then they were gone.

The Hulk was gone.

My eyes slowly brightened.

I staggered away from Tony. His face was lost among a dark shadow, blackened by his rejection of the orange sunrise, so there was nothing to see. Not until he propped himself up, anyways. He cringed and held onto his arm. I contemplated his eyes with diligence, as if stargazing. They were blank. Traumatized.

"Banner…?" he murmured.

I lowered my head.

"That's you, isn't it? Why are you back?"

I didn't know why the Hulk was gone. It was possible to change back as well, but I was too numb to care. My control probably wouldn't even last. I turned around and started walking away, looking up at the sun. The horizon was stained with orange, a color that bled into blackness where the night still held sway.

"Banner, wait!"

_Don't. Keep going._

He ran up behind me. "Stop! For the love of God, don't make me chase you with a bad arm!"

I slowly turned to him, my face mellowing in a silent plea.

"Come on, Doc… Puppy eyes? Really?" Then he sighed, producing the smallest of smiles in the process. "You might as well drop your suitcases. I think I know what's been happening inside that head of yours."

_What?_

"You're a drug addict," he said. Then he shrugged. "That's a metaphor. Anyways, I think your time between Hulk-outs are timed. You gotta change every few days if you don't wanna go through 'withdrawal'. Again, that's a metaphor."

_That doesn't make sense…_

"Think about it. You were cured four days ago. You were fine at first, but then you started losing control of your temper. There was an element of practice in there, like with the guy at the bar, but all that aside… You were pretty damn pissy during the conference call yesterday. And once you throw in what happened on the Quinjet…"

My pulse quickened. "It was all Banner's fault!"

He shrugged. "Focus, Doc. As I was saying, your temper kept getting worse until you finally split into two separate people – ergo, yourself and the 'Other Guy'."

This made perfect sense. Tony's cure had changed the amygdala in my brain so that it worked like a muscle – and like all muscles, it required maintenance. If it became unfit, it would release toxins, which must have been my mental and physical symptoms. They got worse as the amygdala depreciated. It was my body's way of telling me to change.

"Speaking of the Other Guy… He attacked me for being a coward and a liar. That's trippy, don't you think?"

"In what way?"

"You thought Ross was a coward for killing himself, right? Then you compared the guy at the bar to Ross and called him a coward, too. You and the Other Guy both had a hard-on for cowards… And the Other Guy, for all his bullshit, seemed protective of you. I think the Other Guy _was_ you, Banner."

"Impossible."

"Nope," he said. "Remember all those changes that you couldn't control? Before the cure? There was never a second personality; your brain functions just regressed to something more primitive. Am I right, or am I right?"

"Yeah."

"And now, since the cure prevents regression while you're Hulked-out, you'll get something that seems like MPD if you go without changing. Because both your forms are equally as intelligent. And from the looks of it, this new personality _loves _to feed off your little grudges against people like Ross – probably because it's primitive and violent in nature… Just like the original Hulk. Capiche?"

I shifted my weight. _You're right._

"Oh, and Doc?"

"Yeah?"

"What's that thing in your pocket?"

I looked away and dropped my shoulders. "Banner just wanted to see if it was possible to replicate his condition. He kept the serum because he's a… Sentimental idiot."

He laughed. "Like General, like scientist. But enough of that. Let's head back."

My gaze returned to the grass around us. The green was lit by the emerging sun, and the air smelled like dew and gasoline. It made my nostrils flare. The scents reminded me of Stark Tower and the ashen remains that covered it. I was struck by embarrassment. My eyes settled on the ground.

"You look just as crappy as before," he remarked. "What's up, big guy?"

Sadness grew inside of me, and it was powerful. Hard to control. Numbing in spite of the sun's warmth. "There's so much _pain_. Banner's still alone. He's still a monster, killing people… He's been duped, too…"

He was hurt. "How many times do you want me to apologize? I said I was sorry."

I growled. "Don't bring it up again."

"Easy there," he insisted. And then he was quiet. His armor made a faint noise as he looked down at the earth, deep in thought, like something important had just arisen. "You still think I'm a coward, don't you? You're still upset. But I guess that's fair… I've really fucked you over."

I swallowed and settled into the grass. "He's never felt more alone."

"I'm sorry for that, Doc… But I've played all my cards. My chances of drawing more are practically squat."

Silence stretched across the horizon.

"You know what, Banner?"

"Hm?"

Tony paused for a moment and took a breath. His eyes contained a surprising amount of light, and his doubt seemed to have melted away. A grin formed on his face. Then he spoke. "That serum you made… Put it to use. I'll be the recipient."

I stared back at him in shock.

* * *

_**Looks like there's another intense chapter coming up! Please review and tell me what you think of everything so far; I love hearing your feedback - and that includes both the good and the bad! :) Take care guys, and have a great week!**_


	23. Graphic Nature

**XXIII.  
Graphic Nature**

* * *

"You look a little green around the gills, Doc… Well, _greener_."

I was speechless. Tony's request was immense. He was asking for permanent changes to his body, and the resulting consequences could be grave. The Hulk was a burden. It was a weapon. It was capable of destruction when its human persona didn't transform enough. My head was still spinning with shock, but a scowl formed on my face. "That's a horrible idea."

"What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment."

I flexed my shoulders, feeling the numerous muscles that encased them, and leaned closer to Tony. "You're insane. You want to destroy your life just for Banner–"

"Yeah," he deadpanned. "Pretty much."

"Why?"

The engineer started pacing, his expression serious. "You said it yourself – you're all alone. There's nobody else out there like you. On another note, you think I'm the biggest chicken ever, and that's a pretty degrading title for someone like me. But that serum could fix _everything_, Banner. We can get into the logistics of it, but we'll be here all morning. Just humor me a little."

"No."

"Come on."

"_No." _My temper was growing worse. I stooped down to his level and growled, "walk away."

"Are you _seriously_ getting mad_?_"

I curled my lip at him.

His eyes grew bright, almost like something had connected for him. He continued to pace until he was standing beside me. His armor was becoming glossier in the morning sun, and it was striking, but his words stung. "I didn't think you'd be such a coward, Doc."

My eyes widened. "Don't call him a coward!"

He grinned, but the expression was quick. "You _are_ one, Banner. There's no risk here, no frills, nothing but your cold feet. And speaking candidly, it's pointless. Man up and bring Banner back, because…" He took a deep breath. "I don't know what happened to him. I don't know where he's gone."

His comment took me by surprise. "You're looking at him."

"No," he rebuked. "I'm not looking at Banner. I'm looking at the Hulk. _Banner_ wouldn't hide from the chance to…"

_Stop._

"…Make things right."

_You don't know what you're saying._

He shook his head. "You can say otherwise, but the Banner I know is dead." His eyes grew dark. "_Dead!_ He gave up, rolled over as soon as I brought up the serum! You know why? Because he's too stupid to realize his 'terrible privilege' might actually be able to help someone! You really think I'm an idiot for wanting it?"

"Yes," I snarled.

"Then show me why!"

_Fine!_

I gathered my strength and slammed into him. He tumbled across the grass, his armor flashing with warm light, and he couldn't get his bearings in time. I trudged forward until I was standing over him. _You want this? Do you know how much pain it involves? How much loneliness?_

He brought himself upright, his breath hot on my face. "Come on! Quit pussyfooting and do it!"

"I'll show you," I snarled. "You'll regret this."

Then I drove my hand into his armor.

My fingers fell past something damp and hot, beating, and surrounded the arc reactor. He cried in agony and grabbed my arm, but it was fruitless. I squeezed the reactor, tightening my grip on it. Circuitry snapped, wires sparked, and power failed.

I ripped the light away and left a gaping hole in his armor. Shards of metal were glowing, white and crimson, bleeding into his torn shirt. My right hand was holding the reactor. My left hand was holding the serum. Tony tried to stand, but I held him down and forced the vial into his chest. It shattered. I pulled my hand away. Blood strewed everywhere.

Then it was done.

He managed to get up and stagger, but he collapsed again. Red leaked into the grass, which was tinted honey and auburn from the sunrise, and travelled away from his body. He looked at me. Then he tensed up and shut his eyes. Blood kept flowing from his chest, but it was metamorphosing into a familiar color. At the same time, misery and shame accrued in my bones, replacing my rage. Replacing my contempt. I dropped his arc reactor.

_…What have you done, Banner?_

I had lost my temper. Reacted violently. Tony didn't deserve the burden of a condition like mine, but despite everything, this form had gotten the better of me once again. Despite everything, I was still a monster.

Then came the change – that imminent change – in his eyes.

"You better haul ass," he whispered, "if you don't want to see this."

I spun around and raced away at a breakneck speed.

« • »

Banner was gone. Smart move.

I was swimming in a puddle of my own blood, and my muscles were locking up. They were growing tighter by the minute. It hurt like hell, but surprisingly, it also felt pretty good. Everything was warm and brimming with energy. It brought me to one conclusion – my body was accepting the serum. And it was probably saying, _let me change, stupid. You've got a hole the size of Nevada in your chest._

Not like it needed permission, though. I was getting hotter without any cognitive input, almost like it was going to _make_ me change. That was fine, but it would have to wait. I suppressed the growing heat and cleared my throat. "Jarvis… Put Pepper on the line."

"Shall I call an ambulance as well, sir? Your genetic makeup appears to be fluctuating."

"Very funny." My voice was starting to deepen. "Actually, you know what? Since you're being a smartass, _you _can talk to Pepper. Tell her not to worry when I don't show up later."

"Will do, sir."

A shudder passed through my spine. I gritted my teeth and looked down at the grass. It was riddled with blood, but I could tell the liable wounds had already healed. Before long, the armor started to feel tight.

_Uh-oh._

My change was progressing, and the armor wasn't giving me enough space. I mentally commanded it to separate from me, but nothing happened. Jarvis didn't even speak. My concern ballooned. "Jarvis…? You there, buddy?"

"Voice print unauthorized," the computer deemed.

"Crap."

I gave up and pressed the ejection switch. The armor split down my back, breaking its connections with a hiss. Cool air drifted over me as I fell back onto the grass, leaving the armor to stand on its own legs. It was unharmed, so my attention returned to my body. I checked my hands. They were getting hotter, distending, but there was no point in fighting it now – Pepper had been called, and the Mark VII was flying back toward the city. It was time to put my nose to the grindstone.

_You want me to change? Fine._

And then all my resistance melted away.

My heartbeat moved into my head, forcing even more green blood under my skin. Fascination became panic as my body lost feeling for a moment, but it quickly came back. A few moments later, the changes started to compound, faster and faster until everything was piling up on me. A brutish roar tore through my throat.

_…Damn._

If that was the measure of my poise during a change, I had a lot to learn. Banner made it look so easy. But soon enough, it was over. I looked up at the sky. The sun was gleaming, glowing, exposing dew and their tiny rainbows in the grass. I pulled off my tattered shirt and plotted my next move.

I would live alone for a while and get familiar with my new condition. Running back to Banner with tears in my eyes wasn't an option, and because of this, it would prove that I wasn't a coward. But that wasn't my only reason for the induction.

Banner finally had someone he could relate to. He wasn't alone anymore.

My ears soon detected a low humming sound. My instincts kicked in. I peered down the blacktop and saw a car. It was white, its mirrors and windows streaked with chrome, and it was driving at an impressive speed. Then it veered off the road and stopped mere feet away from me. I grunted in surprise.

It was Pepper.

She opened the door and stared at me. It was mortifying. The Mark VII had probably gone straight to her with my GPS coordinates. And now, thanks to that piece of junk, I had just been caught with my pants down – figuratively speaking, thank god. My shoulders dropped. I sank into the grass.

"Tony!" she cried, racing over to me. "What on earth happened to you?! You're all…"

I gave a weak smile. "Handsome?"

"Hulk-y."

"That's not a compliment, is it?"

She ignored me. "Why is there so much blood? Did Bruce hurt you?"

"What is this, twenty questions?" My voice was growing thick with frustration, so I stopped and tried to loosen up before continuing. "Pep, you're making Tony nervous. Would you just… Take a moment? You know, to _breathe_ or something?"

"But look at yourself…"

"He's fine. Honestly. He took your advice, Pepper, and that's all there is to it."

She frowned. "Oh, no… When I said, 'find a way to prove yourself', I didn't mean this!"

"Well, then you should have been more specific."

"Don't sass me."

_Hmph._ But although Pepper was annoying, she did have a point. Taking the serum was a pretty big decision on my part. I was leaving soon, too, so there was little room for arguing. I carefully coaxed her closer in apology. We locked gazes and made a silent pact – namely, she wouldn't ride me for all this, and I wouldn't snap at her for overreacting.

She sat down in a clean patch of grass. "What's going to happen now?"

"Tony needs to leave for a while."

"Care to specify?"

"Just until Banner cheers up. And it won't be forever," I added, blinking slowly. "Tony loves you, Pep."

She crossed her arms and sighed in resignation. "Sometimes it's hard to see that, with the stunts you pull." Then she grew thoughtful. "You know, this is a pretty good look for you. You're really doing it for Bruce?"

I rolled my eyes. "Philanthropist, remember?"

"Right."

We grew quiet. I couldn't stop thinking about Banner, though. I kept thinking about the look he gave me before running away. It was starting to bother me. There was a silver lining to my powers, but Banner probably couldn't see it yet. And his capacity for self-destruction had always been great, especially in hard times.

_What if he doesn't bounce back from the guilt? What if he shuts down and gives up? Because this time, there's nothing stopping him from–_

"Tony?"

This was my fault. I should've known things would get worse before they got better, and now, it was my job to build a safeguard. "Pepper, there's something you gotta do… And it's important. Get your phone out."

* * *

**_It's almost three in the morning and I really need to sleep... But the chapter is finally up, even if it's a few days late! Sorry! :') Please let me know what you think! It was especially fun to write Tony and Pepper's dialogue._**


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